


A Bad Omega

by IFuckingLoveBees



Category: Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Consensual Underage Sex, First Time, Height Differences, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Porn With Plot, Size Difference, extremely brief description of underaged drinking, gratuitous use of commas, is that even a thing?, newly added middle chapter, slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2020-09-28 03:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IFuckingLoveBees/pseuds/IFuckingLoveBees
Summary: Jim knows he’s not a good omega. He fights, talks back, and doesn’t listen to alphas. When his suppressants go missing just before his heat, fight or flight won’t cut it, and Jim ends up getting help from the least likely of places.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank/blame wuffen and colonel bastard for this, you dragged me into this smouldering dumpster fire of a fandom and now I can’t find the fucking exit. Fuck you (Not really tho love you <3)
> 
> Unbetad because I am, as always, a fool and a coward.
> 
> (PSA: Please don't take anything that isn't explicitly educational (here or anywhere else) as sex ed or sex advice, if you want to learn more you can visit this page [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863418) where I've linked some good resources for sexual health and education. Stay safe.)

Jim’s only thirteen when he presents. 

It starts with his scent changing, from his borderline sterile child scent into something more distinct that indicates what he’ll present as.

His father is an alpha, and his mother a beta. All odds favour him presenting as an alpha, with beta coming in a close second. His father insists Jim will make a great alpha one day, and starts training him on proper behavior before he’s even presented.

His mother notices first, walking into his room and losing all the color in her face. She desperately tries to reassure him that everything is fine even as she sneaks worried glances at the door.

When his father gets home and catches the young omega scent its like a switch flips as he starts hurling abuse. 

The fighting starts, and Jim curls into a tiny ball in his bed while his parents yell at the bottom of the stairs. He sits there all night with their words echoing in his mind. It all comes to a head early in the morning when the final angry words are exchanged and the door slams loud enough that even from upstairs Jim hears it.

He runs through the house with tears streaming down his cheeks and bursts into the morning sobbing as he tries to catch up to his father. He calls out and gets only a backwards sneer in response. He’s left at the end of the pier whining and whimpering until his mother comes out to get him. His feet are covered in scratches from the gravel and walking back is a struggle.

They finally get back to the house and his mother sits with him as he cries. Tears flow freely between them in a moment of vulnerability neither will mention to anyone else for a long time to come.

His heats start not long after. The first one is usually the easiest, supposed to be little more than increased sensitivity and a lack of tolerance to foreign smells. 

But then, omegas weren’t _ usually _male. The doctor explains after the fact that Jim being an omega is an anomaly, rare and strange. His pseudo-heats serve no viable function, being that he doesn’t have the parts to carry pups. He still produces slick, still is capable of bonding an alpha, but his heats are more like mutated ruts than anything else. 

Jim’s first heat hits hard and fast. He’s shaking and shivering even as his skin feels hot to the touch. His mother does her best, even bribing a doctor into making a house call, but by then it's too late to stop it. The doctor gives her a set of suppressants for the next heat, but Jim has to ride this one out all on his own. 

Every touch borders on painful to his over sensitized skin. He actually growls when he catches scent of the beta doctor, and snarls when the man doesn’t back off quickly enough for his tastes. The first alpha scent has him suppressing a howl into a pathetic whimper. At first he’s blindly panting around looking for the source in desperation, but something instinctual and unexpected kicks in once he gets a better smell.

The scent is nice; flowery and sweet, but there’s some force inside him that hisses, _ “It’s wrong”. _ The overlying alpha scent is soothing but a primal part of him is furious at the idea of getting any closer to the person carrying it. No matter how badly he needs an alpha he can’t bring himself to search out any of the ones he can smell passing through the inn below.

He spends three days alternating between crying out for an alpha he doesn’t have and tearing into anyone who gets too close. 

He finally comes back to himself the afternoon of the fourth day. He’s never felt so weak and vulnerable and he’s appalled at his body, at himself. He begs his mother to get him suppressants, scent changers, _ something _, before she calms him and explains that she already took care of it, that he won’t have to have another heat again. 

He nearly sobs in relief when she hands him the first packet of suppressants and won’t leave his room without them, a nervous habit which becomes his saving grace on the night the map falls into his hands.

* * *

The dock workers send strange looks at Jim and Doppler as they pass, but none linger and they make it to the Legacy without incident. They’re met almost immediately by the Captain and her first mate, both of whom carry the distinctive alpha scent the young man is used to by now. 

Jim hates the way alphas smell. Its always overpowering, like the scent itself is trying to drown him. His hackles are up before he’s even introduced.

Doppler’s first act upon meeting the Captain is to very nearly out Jim as both the holder of the map and the only omega on board. The boy goes stiff when both Amelia and Mr. Arrow eye him curiously, and he has to push down the urge to snap his teeth as they’re ushered into the Captain’s quarters. 

He needn’t have worried, as it turns out. The Captain quickly and thoroughly tears into the doctor, and only turns to Jim once she’s done.

“Doctor.” She starts, in a faux pleasant tone.“You neglected to mention that the boy was an omega.” She sounds irritated, which Jim isn’t surprised by, but Doppler seems more confused by her annoyance than anything else. 

“I....I didn’t think..” 

“No, clearly you didn’t.” She snarls, cutting him off. “Omega’s are a danger to themselves and those around them, and in this specific-” Jim feels his hackles rise, and steps forward. 

“I’m right here!” He interrupts, and her eyes slide to him, pupils slitted to almost nothing. 

“And if any of the crew knew what you were we would all be in grave danger.” Her tone is sharp and her alpha scent commands his respect, but ignoring that part of his instincts is easy for Jim. She continues, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave the map with us and go home.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He growls. “I’m the only one who knows how to open the map, you’re not leaving without me.” 

She pulls back, ears flattened and breathes deeply through her nose. After a long moment of apparent consideration, she lets the breath out.

“You have suppressants, yes?” She asks impatiently. He nods, and pulls the corner of the packet out of his pocket as proof. She nods briskly, and turns back to her desk. 

“Good. You are to cover your scent at all times, I’ll be sending you down to work in the kitchens with our cook, I expect you will not reveal this information to anyone outside of this room.” She turns and he has to force the challenging snarl bubbling inside him from taking form. 

He’s angry, rightfully so, and meeting the cook doesn’t help. The warning Bones gave him before they fled rings in his mind and tenses every muscle in his body.

It doesn’t help that he can’t get a read on the man. The galley is so saturated with food smells that Jim can’t smell anything else. From the sheer size Jim guesses that he must be an alpha, but when he’s forced into close quarters he finds himself met with an unusually strong beta scent. 

Betas are supposed to be calm and amicable, and are notorious pushovers, which makes Jim think that this might not be so bad. 

_ “No such luck.” _ He thinks bitterly less than an hour later, glaring sulkily at the mop he’s been stuck with. He’s so focused on his anger that when a large crew member passes by and clips him he yelps in surprise and falls against the mast. 

He hears something like hissing behind him and whips around in time to see a pair of huge orange yellow eyes staring at him from well above his head. 

“Cabin boys should learn to mind their own business.” The crew member sneers at him. 

“Why, got something to hide, bright eyes?” Jim can’t help it, its second nature at this point to snark and growl and posture. Omegas don’t back talk, they don’t break rules, and they definitely don’t pick fights. Better to be mistaken for an alpha or a particularly angry beta than the alternative.

The spider hisses and mutters something under his breath, and Jim realizes his mistake as he’s being hauled up against the main mast by his collar. 

“Maybe your ears don’t work so well.” He seethes. 

Jim fights not to cough at the sickly sweet and painfully overpowering, almost putrid scent that hits him when he’s dragged closer. Over it all there’s something he can recognize as alpha but it's so foreign he almost wonders if he’s imagining things. 

“Yeah,” He gags, _ god _he hates alpha stink. “Too bad my nose works just fine.” 

The breath is driven out of him as he’s thrust against the mast, and suddenly the crew are all cheering and baying for his blood and there’s a claw too close to his throat for comfort.

Jim’s eyes widen when the spider takes in a breath close to him, too close. He sees something click in his eyes but then Silver grabs him by the claw and wrenches his arm violently to the side. Jim drops to the floor and stays there, instinct telling him to curl into a ball and let them fight. The feeling only intensifies when Mr. Arrow approaches and breaks up the crowd. 

* * *

He wakes up sweating.

Blinking open his eyes Jim finds light pouring in down the stairs and a harsh yellow glare out on deck. His blanket is halfway on the floor, the other half tangled around his legs and damp with sweat. 

His shirt and pants are much the same, and the short hair of his undercut is soaked like he just dunked his head in a bucket of water.

_ “Great. _” He feels disgusting, sweat sticking to his skin and making him wish for a shower even though the day hasn't even started yet. His mouth is dry and his stomach twists unpleasantly as he gets up from his hammock. The feeling intensifies briefly as he rolls out onto the floor and feels his stomach lurch, but the sensation passes soon enough that he chalks it up to a fluke, some odd reaction to the sudden change in his surroundings. 

He’s exhausted. He hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days, too worried about going into heat during the night to actually rest. He has his suppressants on him, but they’re no use until the heat is almost starting, and the first signs have yet to show.

His nose makes a small wheezing noise in the early morning as he takes in the scents of the bunks. All the smells of the crew are stale, and easily overpowered by the crisp air flowing in through the stairwell. He takes a moment to appreciate that he’s well and truly alone for a short time before his day of chores and busywork starts. 

He shrugs on his jacket and one hand searches the inner pocket for the suppressants he keeps there. A spike of terror lances up his spine when he feels nothing but well worn fabric. 

He checks again, more frantic this time, but the pocket is truly empty. He casts around on the floor for the small envelope of pills, hoping against the odds that they’ve just fallen out, but they’re nowhere to be found. He yanks his boots on and runs for the stairs as adrenaline sends his heart rate skyrocketing. 

He’s nearly at the bottom step when his gut lurches and sends him stumbling to the side. He retches as the nausea hits hard and has to put real effort into forcing last nights food into staying put.

Jim brings a hand up to his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden urge to vomit. It’s bad, then things abruptly get worse as his stomach seizes painfully and his other arm locks itself around his middle as an instinctual reaction. He feels the tingling warmth building under his skin and he knows, without a doubt, that his heat is starting. His suppressants, the only things that can stop it are misplaced at best and have been stolen at worst. 

He needs to move, needs to get to the Captain. She knows, she’ll help him hide, get away from the crew until it’s over. Jim struggles to stand and sways precariously before his feet catch up with his brain. 

Jim dashes for the stairs before his instincts delay him further, but finds his path already blocked by the nightmarish spider creature that makes his skin crawl even on a good day.

He gulps audibly in the empty room and shrinks back into the shadows, praying he hasn’t been spotted. But no, the sound of many feet clicking on the stairs follows after him and brings with it a sharp, bitter scent that has him nearly gagging again. 

Jim shuffles back several steps as Scroop advances into the room and desperately looks around for an escape. A jolt of cold horror hits as his shoulders collide with the back wall and Jim knows that he’s backed himself into a corner. He puffs his chest in a pitiful mimicry of a posturing alpha, desperate to make himself look bigger than he is. A claw darts out and wraps around his throat, pinning him to the back wall, and he doesn’t try to stifle his cry for help. Scroop snarls and cuts off his air completely.

“Nobody around to save you this time, cabin boy.” He hisses over the strangled protests, leaning closer. His free claw hovers near Jim’s face, and the omega leans away. 

The sharp claw is oozing something, and Jim only has a second to process it before Scroop is jamming the tip into the space just under his jaw. Jim yelps at the pain and lashes out, kicking wildly. His feet connect with his attacker’s chest out of pure luck, and he sends them both flailing to the ground. 

He doesn’t give himself time to catch his breath and scrambles to his feet the second he hits the floor. In his mad dash for the stairs he has to dodge around the claws that snatch for his legs but he makes it out of the bunks and doesn’t stop running. He feels the stares of the crew jump to follow him in his path across the open deck. He passes too close to one of the groups loitering around and they turn to him with a wild look. Even as Jim eyes the distance between himself and the Captain’s cabin he knows he won’t make it. 

Instead he flings himself down the stairs into the galley, taking the steps three at a time and landing hard on his ass at the bottom. It’s risky and he knows it, even betas have been known to go after an omega in heat, but he knows Silver, trusts him, and more importantly this is the closest thing to a marked territory on the ship.

His legs suddenly give out beneath him. He’s in the storeroom behind the kitchen proper at this point, though he doesn’t remember the trip through the galley. Jim ends up slumped against a pile of empty pallets trying to collect himself. 

The cook himself is absent, but the apparent threat of entering his domain is enough to keep Jim’s pursuers up on deck, thankfully. Jim shudders and halfheartedly paws at the door until it closes, then drops onto the floor with his knees tucked tightly against his chest. The adrenaline is starting to wear off and exhaustion is taking its place. He whimpers and tries not to panic, thinking and trying to reason a way out. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been hiding when the door creaks open again. He tries to catch the scent, but his nose is blocked with his own smell. Panic seizes him around the chest when he realizes that he can’t identify the intruder, that it could be Scroop coming to try again.

Jim flails, scrambling back and hiding himself further in the discarded packaging. There’s the sound of movement from the direction of the door and he turns towards the source, eyes stinging and teeth snapping in warning as the lights flick on.

“Steady on lad, ‘s just me.” Silver murmurs softly.

Jim blinks, struggling to make sense of what his senses are telling him. The scents of heady alpha and omega mixing with the overpowering beta hormones until his head is swimming and he has to close his eyes and take deep breaths through his mouth to think again. 

He scents the room thoroughly and with all his senses working overtime he can feel the slight burn of something chemical. The beta scent his suppressors usually provide has worn off by now, but this is different. 

It’s Silver, he realizes. The pipe smoke and gasoline smell intermingling with what he now recognizes as artificial beta hormones. Beneath it all there's a subtle alpha musk that finally clicks something in Jim’s mind. 

Alphas passing themselves off as betas isn’t a rare thing. Betas are, for most professions, the ideal workers. Alphas are stereotyped as too proud to take orders, making employers hesitant to hire too many on any one crew. Silver doing the same thing Jim is shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, especially given their respective jobs puts them in contact with plenty of scent blockers.

“You’re...” He hisses out in a horrified whisper before another wave of nausea hits and he’s back to sucking in air like his life depends on it. Silver seems to get the idea anyway.

“It’s a’right lad, I won’t hurt you.” He moves as if to take a step forwards, and Jim startles, leaning back and baring his teeth with a growl.

“Stay back.” Jim is tense, voice shaking and eyes wide. He’s pushed as far back into the corner as he can be, trying to avoid the alpha. 

Silver stops, putting up his hands soothingly.

“No harm’ll come to you Jimbo, I swear it.” 

Jim growls again as he takes a slow step closer, then another. His protests are weaker, and by the time Silver is kneeling before the boy he’s almost docile again. He holds out his mechanical hand palm up like a truce, a beguiling smile on his lips. 

“Trust me.” 

Jim nods, after some hesitation. He doesn’t want to trust Silver, who has already lied to him about so many things, but his hormones are causing havoc and the instinctual urge to allow the alpha to comfort him is overwhelming.

The deceptively slim fingers slide into his hair and the metal of his palm cups Jim’s cheek. The finger pads are pressing into his skin, and Jim is mortified that he wants to moan at the feeling. He starts scenting at the wrist just below his nose, finding it surprisingly pleasant despite the sharp coppery tang of metal. 

Jim swallows around his huffing breaths, still nervous. 

“Don’t tell the Captain.” He pleads. For all that running to her was his first instinct, he fears that she’ll make good on her word and find a port to leave him, now that his suppressants are gone and his heat is fast approaching. 

The request appears to catch Silver off guard. He looks Jim in the eyes, expression searching and unsure even as he nods.

“Won’t breathe a word of it.” He promises, sincere, and Jim relaxes a fraction. 

Silver pulls away and Jim whines in protest, chasing contact. The hand returns to card through his hair as the other prods the place around where Scroop’s claw had punctured, though Jim can barely feel it. 

Concern creases the alpha’s brow, and he stands, leaving Jim whimpering. 

“Don’t- please I need…” He calls out softly, he’d finally felt safe for the first time in who knows how long, he doesn’t want Silver to leave him now.

The older man stops, kneels again to ruffle Jim’s hair and cup his jaw. 

“Won’t be long, aye? Just need something to help that there wound and we’ll find you somewhere to ride this out.” 

Jim tries to get out that’s _ not _what he meant, but Silver is already slipping out the door and leaving him alone in the dark. 

He can’t help it. He’s so exhausted and worn out, and with the adrenaline wearing off and the promise of somewhere safe, Jim falls easily into sleep.

* * *

Jim wakes unusually relaxed. He’s groggy and his head feels like it’s full of cotton. Even so, his gut lurches and he knows that something is very wrong. The door is partially open and the crates that had been in front of it have been pushed over. Jim hears something skittering in the darkness and smells that awful alpha stink and tries to get up. 

He can’t, Jim finds. His limbs are loose and weak, and even pushing himself upright feels like running a mile. He wants to sleep, he’s so tired, but the smell is _ wrong _and every instinct is telling him to run. 

He can hear Scroop behind him and he forces himself to move. He lurches for the door and pulls it open in time for a claw to grab him by the back of his collar and throw him roughly out of it.

Jim scrambles to get up but everything is so heavy and he can barely breathe. Just staying conscious is an effort, and by the time he has control of his own body enough to struggle he’s been dragged into a large, empty room deep in the ship.

The air is forced out of his lungs as he’s slammed into the far wall and pinned there with his feet several inches above the ground. He growls as best he can and the claw around his throat tightens vindictively.

“I wonder what the crew will think of this.” Scroop grins, touching the place on Jim’s neck where his claw punctured. The touch is almost a caress, and Jim shudders. “They’ll probably want a taste for themselves before the venom wears off.” 

Jim pauses in weakly clawing at the hand holding him up to try and throw a punch. Scroop grabs his hand in his other claw easily and smirks.

“Then again,” He laughs. “They do so enjoy a fight.” 

Jim’s vision is starting to go black and fuzzy around the edges now, and his already weak kicks are slowing further.

A thundering hollow thump sounds as Jim is dropped and he hits the floor, and suddenly there’s a heavy weight over his back. He’s spits and growls with everything he’s got, but Scroop is stronger by far even when Jim isn’t being handicapped. The breath is driven out of him again as he’s slammed onto the floor chest first. Jim stops struggling, choking on air instead. Above him there’s a raspy laugh, then the sound of many feet entering the room. 

He’s barely gotten his breath back when several pairs of hands grasp at him at once. Jim snarls and tries to get up, bucking and twisting, but to no avail.  
  
He’s pinned to the floor, half a dozen pairs of hands of varying sizes and shapes holding him down. 

“Omega.” Someone hisses from above, audibly licking their lips . “You’re a rare find.” Another adds, and Jim can hear the leer in their voice.  
  
He’s been scared from the start, but it isn’t until the hands on him start groping and feeling around that a true understanding of what is about to happen sinks cold fingers of dread into his chest.  
  
A claw grabs Jim by the chin and forces his gaze up until he’s staring Scroop in the eye.  
  
“Having fun yet, cabin boy?” He asks, grinning.

Jim snaps at the claw, desperate enough to risk angering them for a chance at freedom.

Scroop jerks back just in time. He’s intimidating in his own right, but even apex alphas know to be wary of an omega’s fangs. They’re notoriously, dangerously sharp, and keeping an omega belly down is the only way to avoid their teeth.

Jim tries to jerk his head around when a hand starts pulling at his shirt. He can’t see the crewman’s face, but he can feel someone untucking his shirt from his pants.  
  
“Don’t.” His voice is shaking and small, and he’s ignored.  
  
The feeling of his shirt being tugged at sends Jim into a panic, squirming desperately against the hands pinning him down. White noise seeps in as his shirt is pulled up and his back is exposed despite his protests. 

“I wonder,” Scroop says from his place standing over the whole thing, acting as the perverted ringmaster. “Do you have a cock at all down there?” The crew members laugh and Jim feels an embarrassed flush of shame and anger over his face. He hates that his body is reacting and that he can feel slick starting to slide down his legs.

“This is what happens when omegas stray too far from home.” Scroop says aloud, yanking Jim’s head back until his throat is exposed. He tries to pull away, wary of the claw moving in near his jugular. Drugged or not, every omega knows that exposing their throat is as good as offering to mate, even if it isn’t done willingly. 

“Bet you’re just dying to be claimed.” He’s facing Jim but the crowd cheers like they’re being addressed, and Jim wants to cry because his muscles are just getting harder and harder to control and all the while his traitorous omega instincts are screaming at him to submit and let the strongest alpha mate him. 

“Don’t.” Jim tries to growl, and a mocking “oooh” rises from the crowd in response. Scroop ignores him, and the next plea is more frightened, more desperate. He feels hot bitter breath too close to his bonding site and he hates that he’s limp against the men holding him. He hears the unmistakable sound of an insectoid mouth opening and he screams.  
  
Jim’s truly panicking now, begging them to get off of him, with the crew’s only response being derisive laughter as they begin to move down, tugging instead at his belt and the waistband of his pants. Hands and fingers run up his bare back and Jim shudders, cringing at the feeling. 

Scroop is suddenly on his level again, sneering.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” He says smugly.

In the next second Scroop is dragged off of him and the room fills with tense silence. Jim drags his eyes up and sees a massive hulking shape between himself and the spider, who now lays on the floor on the other side of the room. The men holding Jim back away quickly, leaving him laying prone on the floor.

Silver growls and it’s almost deafening in the small room. The spectators visibly flinch and Jim breathes in relief. 

“The boy is mine.” He snarls the words out with a feral edge to his tone, and Jim’s eyes grow wide with terror. All the hope in his belly turns to leaden dread, and it shows clearly on his face.

He doesn’t see when Scroop flees, only registers the moment when Silver turns to the rest of the crew and, still snarling, snatches Jim up by the shirt and makes his way further still into the ship. 

The expression on Silver’s face is totally unreadable, and that scares Jim more than anything about this. 

_ “God, no, please.” _Jim prays. If Silver is dragging him away from the crew only to have the omega for himself... 

Jim hears a door slam and notices that Silver’s taken him to a small room somewhere in the inner workings of the ship. 

He kneels and reaches out with his mechanical hand and Jim doesn’t flinch until the hand catches him by the chin and moves his head up, exposing the underside of his jaw. Instantly Jim squirms and tries to get away but the hold on him never falters. 

Any trust that might have been between them is gone, replaced with primal fear at his throat being exposed like this in front of an alpha. He lashes out, kicking and struggling with a high fearful growl building in his throat. Jim throws a single weak punch before the free hand wraps around his wrist and holds it against the wall next to his head. He squirms still, but with Jim on some sort of tranquilizer and with one hand pinned, it’s no contest.  
  
His chest is heaving with great fearful gasps when Jim pays enough attention to see that Silver is saying something, the adrenaline and blood rush deafening the boy to the outside world.  
  
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Jimbo.”  
  
The fear and anger that has been steadily building for hours breaks then, and Jim lashes out.  
  
“No! No, you’ll just wait until I’m begging for it. That’s what this is, right? You just don’t want to share.” He snaps, bitterness barely masking the hurt just under the surface. His voice is shaking just slightly, but he holds his ground.  
  
“You’re just like the rest of them.” Jim sneers, trying to pretend that his voice isn’t cracking, that there aren’t betrayed, angry, and fearful tears running down his cheeks.  
  
The words hit like a physical blow, Silver flinching, and immediately Jim wants to take them back. He hates himself, and looks away, though he doesn’t know if it’s shame or anger with himself that causes the reaction.  
  
Jim starts when the hand on his wrist moves back, then flinches when the fingers cup his jaw and turn him back to face the alpha. The thumb brushes over his cheek to wipe away the gathering tears, and Jim finally finds the stomach to look Silver in the eye.  
  
“You really think that?” Silver asks, like he already knows the answer.  
  
Jim sobs, defeated, and shakes his head. “I’m scared.” He says, almost in a whisper, but it’s heard all the same.  
  
Silver looks taken aback, and more than a little pitying. He shakes his head sadly, and Jim can feel the anger as if it’s a physical weight that’s been lifted off his chest.  
  
“Easy, steady on.” Jim hears in a murmur as he’s pulled into a comforting embrace. The hand that pulls him down then moves instead to card gently through his hair.  
  
“Relax lad, s’alright.” the older man soothes. “I won’t hurt you, but you’ve a nasty gash there an’ it needs a cleanin’ ‘fore it gets worse.”  
  
Jim whimpers, all at once aware of the lightning bolts of pain emanating from the deep puncture wound on his neck. The slow ooze of fluid onto his collarbone tells him without needing to look that it’s worse than what he can feel right away, that maybe there’s even a numbing agent somewhere in the toxin.  
  
“Please, no.” Jim begs, voice quiet, curling into himself as tightly as he can even as the older man holds him out at arms length.  
  
Silver looks pained, he doesn’t want to ask this of Jim, and it shows.  
  
For a long moment they just stare at each other. Jim’s eyes frantically search Silver’s expression for anything malicious, any trace of a lie, but finds none. He gulps and looks the older man in the eye, terrified out of his mind.  
  
Slowly, every instinct screaming, Jim bares his throat.  
  
It’s as good as an invitation to lay a claiming bite, but true to his word, Silver doesn’t move to mark him. His flesh hand settles on Jim’s shoulder while the other moves in and swabs the wound with something that stings worse than the cut itself, then presses a bandage to the cut.  
  
His long mechanical fingers almost fully encircle Jim’s throat, and the unexpectedly warm contact on that very vulnerable part of him brings back the thoughts of his heat. He’s trembling and feels a fresh wave of slick roll over his thighs. The omega whines and Silver chuffs something in answer and the fearful primal part of Jim goes docile at the sound.  
  
The hand stays where it is long after Jim has stopped shaking. He doesn’t realize how close they are until his head drops and connects with Silver’s chest.  
  
He takes several deep breaths through his nose, scenting without meaning to.  
  
The alpha scent isn’t overpowering, but it isn’t weak either. It’s subtle, layered underneath the scent of purps and pipe smoke and gasoline. He takes another deep breath and feels his body relax. It’s nice, almost soothing.  
  
He must sit there for a long time, but Silver makes no move to dissuade him. Eventually Jim feels the mechanical hand move to rest on his shoulder, but all it does is rub gently at the nape of his neck, massaging his bonding site and lulling the boy to rest. One moment he’s sitting on the floor of the small room they’d been in and the next he’s being gathered up in the older man’s arms and carried away.  
  
He’s not worried, which in and of itself should really be unsettling given how much trust he’s putting in a man he knows isn’t really his ally, but Jim really can’t bring himself to care. His only action through the journey is to throw out a hand to fist in the collar of Silver’s jacket and not let go.  
  
Jim vaguely registers being moved into an unfamiliar room, and picks up his head to scent around curiously.  
  
Given the overwhelming scent of gear oil and pipe smoke, Jim feels confident guessing that this is Silver’s room. Sure enough, when he opens his eyes for the first time he sees a stray hat, a pipe, and a small container that gives off a chemical beta smell even from across the room. His nose wrinkles in disgust, and Jim turns back to the alpha carrying him.  
  
He whines when Silver sets him down on the bed and moves away. Every part of Jim is telling him to get closer, to follow the alpha scent, but his limbs are still too weak to move far. He has enough strength to move onto his side and curl into a ball, but even that is exhausting.  
  
Jim’s eyes drop closed of their own accord and the comforting scents lull him into sleep.

* * *

Jim staggers into wakefulness bleary eyed and disoriented. The fact that this is very clearly not his bunk throws him for a loop for a few long seconds before the past few hours fly towards him at breakneck speed and send him reeling.  
  
All things considered, Jim knows he got extremely lucky.  
  
He’s still scared shitless, knowing that he’s alone with Silver without any real idea of where they stand and that nobody knows he’s technically missing.  
  
He uncurls from the tiny ball he’d packed himself into with a groan as his spine creaks in protest, and stretches as much as his place wedged in the corner of the bed will allow.  
  
It’s not much. He has to keep his neck bent at a severe angle to stay where his instincts tell him safety is, but it’s enough for both the scent and the physical evidence of his heat to make themselves obvious again.  
  
The horror and mounting dread that Jim has come to associate with his heat is conspicuously absent. It’s not gone completely, but it’s muted. He’s calmer than he’s ever been, and in the clarity the moment brings, Jim realizes that he has a choice to make.  
  
He knows that he can make it through his heat on his own, he’s done it before. That’s not what he’s thinking about.  
  
The idea that he doesn’t have to suffer through on his own is tempting. That he has an alpha he trusts is enough to have him feeling relaxed and _ god _ even a little eager is head spinning. He wants Silver more than he’s wanted any alpha before, wants to be held and touched and for once the idea of carrying an alpha’s scent is appealing, even sending a pleasant chill down his spine.  
  
Partway through Jim’s internal debate the door opens and Silver enters, moving slowly and predictably, apparently wary of startling the boy. They’re both silent for a long moment, Jim tucking his knees up to hide the tent in his pants and trying to ignore the smell of heat in the room.  
  
“Y’alright, lad?” Silver breaks the silence.  
  
“Been better.” Jim shrugs, trying to look nonchalant over the flush of his cheeks.  
  
The two of them lapse into silence again.  
  
Jim wants to say something. But, _ “I’m not sure what I’m doing but I kinda want to kiss you.” _ sounds stupid and childish even in his own head, and he’s still too nervous to speak up.  
  
He’s pulled from his thoughts again when Silver clears his throat and gestures at him with a wave of his hand.  
  
“Need ta look at that cut right quick, make sure it ain’t gettin’ worse.” He looks the boy in the eye and Jim nods without thinking, stays perfectly relaxed as what should be a predator crosses the room and leans down, boxing him in against the wall.  
  
He doesn’t growl when Silver takes his chin in hand and moves his head to the side, exposing the healing wound. He doesn’t bother to react at all until he sees the older man go rigid above him.  
  
It takes Jim far too long to notice that the small rumbling purr filling the room is coming from his own throat.  
  
The contented noise cuts off abruptly with this realization, Jim meeting Silver’s equally shocked expression.  
  
In the next second whatever animal has taken residence in Jim’s core sends him lunging forward, crashing their lips together with a sort of anxious desperation he’s never known before.  
  
The moment seems to both last forever and end in no time at all. In the next second Jim finds himself pushed gently back against the wall, Silver looking at him with something like pity.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t...” Jim trails off, shrinking back against the wall.

“S’not yer fault, lad.”  
  
Jim looks up at this, surprise and annoyance warring in his mind.  
  
“You think this is the heat talking?” He snaps, though his voice doesn’t have quite the bite to it that he wants, too full of something softer and sadder.  
  
“Yer gonna tell me it ain’t?” And there’s bitterness in the words, almost eclipsed by the same emotion that Jim can’t name but knows they both feel.  
  
Jim pauses, takes a second to think, because if he’s gonna convince Silver then he needs to convince himself first.  
  
After a drawn out moment of introspection, Jim brings his hands up to the flesh hand still holding him against the wall.  
  
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He admits, eyes downcast. “I’ve never wanted anyone before, let alone an alpha, but...” He bites his lip. “...I trust you.”  
  
A whimper escapes Jim’s lips before the noise is abruptly cut off when Silver closes that measly few inches between them and kisses him hard.  
  
Jim is thrilled, and the rumbling noise in his throat picks up again as the hand on his shoulder moves to the back of his neck and drags him in closer, so close that their chests are nearly touching.  
  
They break apart breathless, Jim still open mouthed and smiling. Silver’s arms closing him in and holding him close and for once he’s being looked at like he’s worth something.  
  
“I trust you.” Jim says, and means it more than anything. The hand around the back of Jim’s neck slides down to the small of his back and pulls him away from the wall before bracing the mattress next to his head.

They’re kissing again, this time heated and interspersed with soft gasping breaths and muffled noises. Jim makes a small noise of displeasure when Silver pulls away, only to cut himself off with a whimper as the attention moves to his throat. 

His skin is feverishly hot, with the heat now beginning in earnest, and the comparatively cool lips and tongue tracing the tendons of his neck is the best thing Jim’s ever felt. The collar on Jim’s shirt is sliding off one shoulder, exposing even more skin to be licked and sucked.

It feels good, _ really _good, getting this kind of attention. The scent of them together is fucking intoxicating and Jim is torn because he wants this to continue but he also wants something else. 

They meet again in a kiss and Jim tests the waters with a sharp nip of his teeth. His omega fangs aren’t as large as an alphas might be, but they’re deadly sharp. There’s a good reason most alphas will only take an omega while they’re pinned to the floor on their bellies. The fact that Silver doesn’t immediately start snarling and posturing gives Jim hope.

“I want- fuck, let me do something?” Jim gasps when they part. He’s going to be a wreck in less than a few hours, he wants to do this his way _ once _ before he loses himself.

Silver allows Jim some room, which he uses to flip them so that he’s climbing onto the older man’s lap. There’s a long moment where he’s not sure if Silver will allow it, and Jim wraps his arms around the alphas neck and buries his face in his shoulder.

“Please.” It feels like he’s asking too much, and he can’t look Silver in the eye. 

He calms when Silver starts scenting at the juncture between his neck and his shoulders.

“This how you want it?” Silver murmurs.

Jim nods, mute, then sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth as the alpha pulls back to drag his tongue along the length of Jim’s collarbone.

His shirt is falling down, the wide collar is stretching almost over both his shoulders, and Jim knows there’s no point in delaying the inevitable. He moves to pull it off in one motion, folding his arms over his shoulders and gripping the back of the collar, but a hand on his side stops him. 

Jim lets go, at first confused then abruptly understanding as instead Silver gathers the hem and slides it up his body slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole time. 

Its… way hotter than what Jim had planned. The garment is just below his ribs and already he can feel slick warming his entrance and easing the way for whats to come. Silver’s fingers are making just the barest contact with Jim’s heated skin and it’s driving him wild already. 

The shirt slides over Jim’s pectorals easily, and Silver uses one hand to pull the fabric up until it’s settled near Jim’s collarbones and the omega’s chest is exposed. He takes the other and drags his claws over the unmarred flesh in a long line from neck to abdomen. Jim grunts at the feeling of yet more slick sliding down his legs, bucking in Silver’s lap and feeling his mind growing hazy with need. 

For a long moment they both stare, each drinking in the others expression. Jim stares at Silver and can see nothing but love and acceptance, and maybe a little bit of mischief, and feels a little bolder for it. He lowers his head to where Silver’s hand is holding his shirt and finds the exposed thumb pad, then deliberately stretches his tongue out to lick it. 

It tastes like metal and his own sweat, and as soon as his mouth is touching it Silver is gripping his jaw hard and settling the pad against his lips. 

Jim doesn’t hesitate, puts his mouth on the metal and bites down carefully, growling a little. A rebellious, _ “I’m in charge.” _ in the face of a dangerous and powerful alpha. Silver smiles and chuffs back, reassuring. _ “Yes, you are.” _.

Jim lifts his arms and Silver slides the shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it away before starting to work on the omega’s boots. The first comes off easily, and Jim spends a moment admiring Silver’s hand as it traces the bones of his foot. 

He’s so used to being treated as if he’s a piece of meat or made of glass in turns that seeing Silver treating him delicately feels like it should be frustrating, but it’s not. He knows Jim can take the rough treatment, he knows the little omega is made of tougher stuff than that, and he’s being gentle with him anyways. Jim feels more open and vulnerable in that moment than he ever has before. He is suddenly sure that his bones are those of a bird, hollow and fragile, and he still wants nothing more than for Silver to touch him, because he knows the older man will be careful. 

Jim toes off his other boot and lets it drop to the floor with a thud. He’s trembling, now, sweat beading on his shoulders and sliding down his back. The seat of his pants is soaked in slick and more just keeps coming. The erection straining the front of Jim’s pants is leaking precum and he grinds forwards, almost lazily. The way he’s sitting in Silver’s lap puts Jim so that either his ass is settled on the older man’s thighs or his cock is pressed between their bellies. The omega rolls his hips, groaning at the feeling.

His pants are the only things remaining, but Jim’s shaking hands don’t move to undo his own belt just yet. He forces himself to wait, and instead slides his hands under Silver’s shirt collar to dig his fingers into the older man’s shoulders. The warm skin under his palms makes Jim shudder and roll his hips yet again. He kneads his hands, fighting the urge to scratch and claw and leave a possessive mark so that nobody tries to touch his alpha. 

Jim snarls at the thought, sitting up more and bowing his head forwards until his and Silver’s foreheads are touching. He’s still growling and seething at his imaginary rival when Silver’s hands come up and cup either side of the boy’s face, his thumbs stroking Jim’s cheeks. 

“Shh, easy, easy.” He soothes. Jim’s growling stops, turns instead to soft purring as his tightly curled fingers smooth and come to rest together on the back of Silver’s neck. The alpha smiles and nuzzles the side of Jim’s face.

“There’s a good lad.” He whispers in the omega’s ear. 

Jim can’t help it, he whimpers, needy, and rubs himself on every inch of Silver’s body he can. The older man takes his hands and traces the outline of the omegas shoulder blades, then pets down his back to the dip at the base of his spine, stopping just above the waistband of Jim’s pants.

His breath hitches as Silver’s fingers slide just under his belt. Still gasping for breath, Jim immediately starts undoing his pants. The buckle comes undone and Jim throws his belt to the floor, his now loose pants sliding down on his hips. Jim leans back into Silver’s hands on the small of his back and whines, bucking and whimpering, begging without words to be touched. 

Silver complies, adjusting his cybernetic hand to sit just under Jim’s shoulders as his other slides beneath the boy’s pants. Jim squirms into the touch, impatient. 

Jim keens and his eyes roll back in his skull as Silver’s fingers slide down the cleft of his ass, slipping in the slick that’s soaked the omegas pants. Jim bucks backwards, arching his neck and mumbling pleas for the alpha to get on with it.

“Please, please I need it, I can’t take it just fucking do it already _ please _-” 

The boy chokes on his words as Silver uses a finger to circle his entrance, being careful even as slick pumps out and the muscle loosens on its own. Jim has gone silent, closing his eyes and rocking his hips lightly. The movement of his lower body rubs his cock against Silver’s belly, and it feels good but he knows the touch won’t get him off.

“More.” Jim whispers, not opening his eyes. 

Jim feels Silver press in, and moans as one of the thick fingers slides in as easily as if it’s nothing. 

“More.” Jim moans again, breathy and light. 

Silver starts to add another, twisting and working Jim open with little effort. The stretch is good, but Jim growls because its not enough to fill him, not enough to quell the need in his belly. 

“C’mon, more, knot me.” He growls, grinding his teeth and pushing back into Silver’s hand.

“Easy.” Silver rumbles back, warning. “You’ll get a knot when you’re ready for it.”

“I’m ready _ now _.” Jim snarls, pushing back and fucking himself on Silver’s fingers. The action earns a grunt as Jim pushes back and grinds against the alphas clothed erection, but he just tightens his hold and continues opening the omega up at the same torturous pace as before. 

Jim wants to cry with frustration even as a third finger is added.

“Knot me, c’mon please I’m ready.” His entrance is loose even with the older man preparing him, his cock hard and leaking but incapable of coming until he has a knot in him. 

Silver is panting hard through his teeth now, nose working to take in the heat scents, and Jim winds his arms around the alphas neck. 

“Please, Silver, knot me _ please _.” 

A deep, possessive snarl echos out from between Silver’s bared teeth, and Jim feels his pants yanked down around his thighs. At the same time the alpha removes both his hands from the younger man’s body to open his own pants and free himself. 

The loss is almost painful, Jim lets out a whimpering cry even as he’s working to align himself over the alphas massive erection. His own is freely bobbing between them, untouched.

Jim braces his hands on Silver’s shoulders as one hand comes to rest on his hip and the other under his thigh. He moves down smoothly, and wrings a groan from both of them both at once, the alpha’s cock sliding in easily. 

Jim starts gasping as he’s filled up. The push in feels like it’s sliding in past what should be possible. Silver is large, even for an alpha, and Jim feels like he’s being suffocated from the inside even as his lungs continue drawing air. 

He slides all the way down, pressing his body as far as it will go and taking as much of Silver as he can, until eventually he’s seated in his lap and fully impaled on his cock. Jim chokes back tears, feeling relief from the heat for the first time in his life. It’s incredible, like nothing he’s ever experienced. The void in his gut is filled with warmth and now Jim is crying because he finally feels safe and loved. 

He leans into the older man’s shoulder and scents at the side of his neck, mouth open and gasping like he’s the last source of air on the ship.

Silver sinks a hand into Jim’s hair and rolls his hips, pulling out then shoving back in with one fluid motion that makes the omega cry out. He does it again, a little harder, and Jim makes the same pleasured noise. Jim starts shoving back into the thrusts, his breathing picks up and he moves to rest his head on the other man’s chest, core muscles working to pull himself up and down. As he’s staring down he realizes that he can _ see _ Silver thrusting in, the force pushing and warping his lower abdomen out. 

The next thrust in brushes against something inside of Jim that feels like a match too close to a fuse. It’s warm, almost painfully so, and Jim moans at the feeling, not sure if he wants it to continue. Silver pulls him forwards and adjusts accordingly, and suddenly everything is bursting with light and Jim starts gasping and moaning. 

It’s overwhelming, and the only thing Jim can do is dig his fingers into Silver’s shoulders and hold on for dear life as he’s pounded into. He’s there, right on the knife’s edge of orgasm, and Jim presses himself skin to skin to scent desperately at Silver’s neck.

“I’m close, please Silver touch me, please.” He’s begging, rambling and mumbling a long string in the hopes that the older man will be moved by one of his pleas.

Silver groans, right hand coming to rest on the nape of Jim’s neck and his other wrapping the omega’s cock in a tight grip, squeezing and pumping the younger man in time with his thrusts. 

It’s rough, Jim knows he’ll be sore when it’s all over and done with, but the peaking pleasure is enough to outweigh the pain. A few harsh pulls on his oversensitized dick and Jim is coming, screaming an incoherent cry and feeling all his muscles tighten and lock up. Silver grunts just as it happens and the way the younger man’s body clenches makes the knot forming inside him feel like it’s splitting him open. 

Jim is shaking his way through the aftershocks of his pleasure as he feels the older man spilling hot inside him. It’s almost too much, almost enough that Jim wants to pull away and be left aching and alone if only so he doesn’t hurt, but his howling animal instincts are stated and purring and Jim needs to be inseparable from his alpha more than anything.

The knot grows inside him, heavy and thick and impossibly hot, and Jim feels warm all over and suddenly like he could sleep for a year. He doesn’t sleep during his heats as a general rule. Not that he doesn’t try, but usually that the screaming instincts don’t let him. The sudden heaviness to his eyelids is unfamiliar, but very welcome. 

His body is draped over Silver’s chest, nose tucked close to his throat and fighting to stay conscious as sleep drags at him. The alpha rumbles a comforting noise that Jim can feel in his chest and strokes a hand over the omega’s hair and back. He groans, fighting to stay awake and in the moment with his alpha, and Silver reads him like an open book.

“Rest, pup, I’ll be here for you when you wake.” 

Jim closes his eyes, obedient, and sleeps.

* * *

Waking up warm and comfortable at his own pace is something Jim hasn’t done for months. Since he boarded the Legacy, actually. Doing it now is almost more disorienting than it is nice. 

Almost. 

The bed is soft, worn in places but infinitely better than his hammock, which is always cold no matter how many blankets and articles of his own clothing he piles on top of himself at night. 

He’s naked. Thats the first thing Jim notices. The second is Silver, curled around Jim’s back protectively with his nose buried in the omegas hair. The warmth seeping into his spine from the older man is nice, and sleep drags at him again before the heat stamps it’s foot and refuses to be ignored.

Jim feels slick between his legs, grimaces at the sensation and tries to roll onto his belly only to find his already leaking cock preventing him from avoiding the inevitable. 

He groans, exasperated, and feels Silver’s arm snaking around his middle and his nose scenting at Jim’s neck.

“Heat coming back?” He asks it softly, like he’s trying not to startle the boy. 

Jim nods, sighs, and leans back to further allow the scenting. 

Silver continues, reaching his other arm around and dragging his claws very lightly over Jim’s belly, trailing lower and lower and peppering kisses up and down Jim’s neck as he goes. 

Jim can get hard with nothing but a light wind during his heats, and by the time the alpha is finally putting hands on the omega he’s fully erect and rocking into the touch with a whine. 

“Touch me…” Jim whimpers, then groans as Silver’s good hand forms a loose fist around his cock and doesn’t move.

“You want it? Work for it.” Silver says low in his ear. 

It’s not what he needs, but its enough for now. Jim grunts, snapping his hips as much as the cramped space will allow and fucking into Silver’s warm, calloused hand. With every thrust in the grip tightens incrementally, forcing Jim to work harder for it and wringing a cry from him as he’s squeezed, just on the edge of pain. 

He arches his back and makes a sound like he’s been punched in the chest as he comes. He’s buried to the hilt in Silver’s hand, and gets one more firm tug milking him for all he’s got before he goes limp. 

He’s spent, gasping and panting, but the press of Silver’s cock against his ass is spiking his instincts and he’s already getting hard again. 

“Silver- need…” He presses back, groaning and eyes rolling back in his skull. 

“Aye, lad, I’m here.” 

Jim heaves himself up onto his knees and then settles himself so he’s chest down ass up on the bed, face buried in his arms. He’s blushing, presenting himself like this is mortifying, but he wants his alpha’s knot so badly that he almost doesn’t care. 

He blinks, surprised at the thought that just crossed his mind. 

When had Silver become _ his _ alpha?

The slick dripping down his thigh leaves a trail and mixes with the sweat and come that still sticks to his skin. His body has recovered from the last time, if only a bit, and Silver twists two fingers into him as Jim pants and rubs his face on the sheets. 

It seems they’re both losing their patience. Jim starts whimpering and begging as soon as the preparation feels like enough and Silver doesn’t deny him for once, as soon as he’s got the younger man loose he pulls out and slides in. It’s tighter than before, less preparation means Jim has to rock back and take the alpha’s cock gradually, and pressing them flush together is more of an effort. 

Silver manages to hit that spot on the first try, Jim yelping and his cock jumping. The first few thrusts are slow and controlled enough to drive Jim a little bit mad. He’s clawing at the sheets and growling when the pace finally picks up to something more manageable, then continues right on into punishing. 

Jim deliberately clenches his muscles, trying to replicate the trick that had earned him a knot the night before. He moans, barely aware of Silver echoing the sound as the cock inside him spills on a rough thrust in. 

It’s hot again, overly warm but this time Jim welcomes it with a breathy sigh of relief. He feels the pulsating warmth press into every inch of him as the knot swells and locks them together, and the moment he’s filled Jim is coming again, hips jerking in aborted little movements. 

The stretch feels really, really good, and Jim calms slowly. His body continues rocking slowly, rolling into the bundle of nerves inside of him that makes him see stars.

He comes again while he’s still knotted, even as exhaustion drags at his eyes and delirium creeps in from nowhere. 

The rest of his heat is a blur, snippets of time out of context and with no beginning or end. Most of the moments are after Jim is sated and before the heat takes him again. Soft affection and Silver just holding him, making him feel safe. Jim doesn’t remember everything, but the overwhelming feeling of being loved permeates every memory he retains, and the stark contrast between the cold loneliness of his previous heats and the warmth of this one excites him. He wants Silver for his next heat, and the one after that, and holds the idea close to his steadily beating heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, someone in the comments mentioned a Silver POV, and at first I was like “I have no idea how to do that”, but then I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so here we are. You know who you are, if you’re reading. This is for you. 
> 
> Chronologically this takes place alongside and then shortly after chapter 1.
> 
> Also this chapter might be hornier than the original two? I honestly can’t tell if it’s just me or if my writing has actually changed. I’m less squeamish about writing sex, at least, so if it’s different that’s why. 
> 
> Usual disclaimers, I have no beta reader and am one (1) sleep deprived twink. If there’s errors, that’s why.

Silver hadn’t planned on this. 

Getting close to the boy was one thing. Keep an eye on him, make sure he isn’t getting wise to the plan before they have time to act. Something had always seemed off about Jim, but he’d pushed it aside as a young beta coming into his own. 

Because for all intents and purposes, he seemed like a beta. His scent was flat and unassuming, his stature perhaps a little on the slim side but not improbable. He always acted wary of Silver, but that was to be expected. Even not knowing his actual designation Jim’s instincts would demand subconscious respect for the alpha. 

The attitude thew a bit of a wrench in their plans, but Silver knows how to deal with that. He’s a pup testing his limits, a little light posturing and he’d fall into place like all the others. Silver never bothered searching for another explanation. The boy kept enough distance from him that he never worried about the alpha scent slipping past the blockers he wears. 

Walking into the galley that day and finding it drenched in the scents of heat and desperate omega sends his heart racing. It’s been years since he smelled anything that potent. The scent is fresh and untempered by another alpha, and he follows it back to the storeroom where tiny whimpering cries can be heard. 

The room is dark when he opens the door, but the sound of someone scrambling away confirms the omega’s presence, just as the heady heat scent tells how long they’ve been in here. He lights the lantern and turns to see the small, vulnerable form of Jim huddled in the corner. He’s half hidden behind a wall of empty crates and his hair is mussed, he can’t have woken up long ago. 

At first Silver doesn’t believe it, but as he breathes in that powerful cocktail of hormones and pheromones it’s clear that Jim, the little beta with an attitude problem, isn’t a beta at all. 

A lot of things click into place then. His hesitance around the alpha crew, his unusually strong but still dull beta scent, his height and build much better suited to a young omega than anything else.

“Steady on lad, ‘s just me.” He tries to say it in a low, comforting tone that the omega will respond to instinctively. 

And then there’s utter horror on the boy’s face as he breathes in and catches the hidden alpha scent. His eyes go wide, that bright grey blue so frightened and panicked and his heat smell is undercut by the sharp flavor of fear. 

“You’re…” He says before doubling over, his face drawn into a pained grimace as he clutches his stomach. 

It’s been a long time since Silver had an omega through their heat, but he remembers each of them vividly. Many of them complained of cramps, of pain so bad that it felt like hot knives twisting in their guts. He winces in sympathy as Jim makes a sound like he’s fighting not to vomit.

“It’s a’right lad, I won’t hurt you.” He murmurs, stepping closer as the omega gasps against the pain. 

The reaction is instant. As soon as he takes a step Jim is flattening himself to the far wall and snarling, showing the sharp point of his canines in warning. 

“Stay back.” He growls, and the fear in his scent turns to warning. Despite the strength Silver can see Jim is scared. His body is shaking and sweat is starting to drip down his chest. The heat is hitting hard, and it’s obvious his body can’t hold out much longer. 

As guilty as he feels, Silver uses that to his advantage. The alpha in him knows that this is not a good place for a heated omega and so he presses forward, taking it slow to not provoke the frightened boy. 

“No harm’ll come to you Jimbo, I swear it.” He promises, taking another step toward Jim. 

The boy flashes his teeth again, but it’s hard to be truly wary of his attack when his scent is pleading for touch, for comfort. His eyes are wide and tense and he’s as far into the corner as he can get. Even now Jim is trying to avoid the alpha rather than start a confrontation. 

Eventually Jim’s breathing evens out, and soon they’re close enough to touch. He’s still staring up at Silver like he doesn’t know what to make of this new information, but he’s not snapping or snarling anymore, and his scent has gone from terrified to just wary. 

“Trust me?” Silver says. It’s not a fair thing to ask of Jim, who’s so scared and looks ready to cry at a moment’s notice, but he can’t help unless the boy is willing to let him. 

Slowly, Jim nods, and Silver reaches for him. He doesn’t miss the way Jim still flinches when his hand makes contact with the boy’s cheek, but the slight sigh he lets out as the alpha finally touches him gives credence to just how badly he’d wanted this. 

As soon as they’re touching Jim starting scenting, huffing the heavy alpha scent like it’s a drug. His form relaxes and Silver lets the boy scent him. He doubts Jim has ever had an alpha before, this kind of curious exploration isn’t something an experienced omega would exhibit, and his scent is too clean. He’s totally unmarred by the mere presence of an alpha during his heats, and Silver wonders how long the boy has been fighting his own nature like this.

A shadow of fear crosses Jim’s face again, and he looks up with those wide, frightened eyes and mutters something into Silver’s wrist. 

“Don’t tell the captain.” 

That makes the older man pause. A hundred scenarios run through his head, most of them unsavory but distinctly out of character. The woman’s an alpha, yes, but she’s prim and proper and Silver isn’t sure she even knows _ how _ to break the rules. Taking advantage of an omega doesn’t seem like her, and the faint trace of beta hormones still hovering around Jim tells that he can’t be afraid of that. He likely hasn’t had a heat since being on the ship, thanks to the suppressants Silver knows now he was using. It’s something else he fears, retribution? 

The reason doesn’t matter, ultimately. 

“Won’t breathe a word of it.” He says, and Jim’s final bit of hesitance leaves. His body relaxes, and without the strength of fear or defiance he looks small, every bit the omega he is.

Silver pulls away, preparing to go in search of supplies and a safe place to keep the boy. His cabin is his first thought, but he doubts Jim would be in favor of that, so he tries to drum up another place on the ship with a door that locks. 

Jim whimpers at him, pointed and such an _ omega _sound that it forces the alpha to rush to correct. He pushes a hand through the boy’s hair again, the strands curling loosely around his fingers. He shoves his head into the touch, and for the first time the space under his chin is exposed to the room. The small bloody mark is barely visible in the dim lighting, but still Silver presses at it gingerly. 

It’s a puncture, and from the until now unnoticed smell that clings to Jim’s clothes it’s not hard to guess who put it there. Silver shoves down a snarl, not wanting to startle the skittish omega as he stands. It’s clear he’s on a time limit now, it’s only so long before the crew come looking for the fresh meat being advertised by the heat scent. 

“Don’t- please I need…” Jim cries, and Silver grits his teeth against the urge to pin him right there. The heat scent is so fresh, so strong and pure and it’s hell on his instincts but he’s stronger than the animal inside, and so he fights it down before turning back to Jim.

He satisfies himself by running his hand through the soft hair again, cupping Jim’s chin and staring into his blown pupils to impart how much he means it when he speaks.

“Won’t be long, aye? Just need something to help that there wound and we’ll find you somewhere to ride this out.” He fakes a smile, reassuring, and turns to leave before Jim can tempt him further. 

It’s utter torture that he can’t lock the door after him. Even if it did have a deadbolt, the hinges are flimsy enough that a suitably desperate alpha could get the door open without even really trying. He has to hurry. Leaving Jim alone for too long is bound to bring the other alphas crawling. Already the cloying scent of heat is spilling out of the galley. 

None of the crew are in sight, which just puts the alpha more on edge. He tries to keep his stride calm as he crosses the deck and heads into the ship. 

The medical supplies are kept in a back room, easily accessible thanks to the lack of locking door but out of the way. He collects some bandages for the cut, antiseptic, and takes painkillers to help Jim with the heat. The tiny emergency stash isn’t equipped to help an omega through heat, so this will have to do for now. 

The walk back through the ship takes longer than he’d like. He’s aware that he’s already been away for several minutes, leaving Jim vulnerable and alone in the storeroom. 

Silver allows himself some urgency as he steps down into the galley. The heat scent is still strong, but it’s less than it was earlier, and that is enough to make him nervous. The heat should be trying to draw in any alphas in the vicinity. Silver’s short time with the boy wouldn’t have been enough to satisfy the hormones starved of alpha attention. 

The door to the storeroom is hanging open when he reaches it, and a cursory look insides reveals the signs of a struggle. The heat scent is stale, though not old, and over it the smell of another alpha coats the room in dread. 

Jim isn’t his omega, he isn’t even particularly close to the boy. Still, the sudden anger picks up and he bares his teeth at nothing. 

Snarling to himself, Silver storms out of the galley. They didn’t leave a scent trail behind them, the wind sweeping across the deck would have cleared the scent almost as soon as it settled. So that leaves Silver to guess where they’d gone, something he huffs through his nose at. He doesn’t have time to search every room on the ship, by the time he’s found them there’s a very real possibility that it will be too late.

The cargo bay is his first stop, but from his first step inside there isn’t a scent out of place, and the space echoes with an emptiness that can’t be faked. Nobody has been down here for days. 

The more frequented side rooms are next. The well lit corridors are eerily silent without the crew bustling around, and Silver’s one good ear strains to pick up the sounds that many men in one place would be making. 

After clearing all the upper decks he goes lower, to the halls with grates for flooring and dim yellow light from underneath that makes the space all the spookier for it. There are some spaces down here, boiler rooms and storage that is being saved for the return journey. 

He’s partway down a hall when his ears pricks at a sound. A crowd, a raucous noise that would’ve been jovial, had the circumstances not been so dire. 

Silver follows it, the sound and scent getting stronger as he goes. 

Jim’s scream is unmistakable, and the powerful scent of a heated omega drives Silver as he cracks open a door at the top of a stairwell that descends deeper into the ship. The panic in the omega’s scent, the sounds of the men laughing while Jim shouts and protests and begs, Silver takes it all in with his hackles rising. He descends the stairs, not bothering to be quiet. They’re making enough noise to drown him out anyway, and he wants them to know exactly how fucked they are. 

The scene when he reaches the bottom step gives him a slight breath of relief, at least. Jim is pinned on the floor, yes, but he’s still fighting. More importantly, his clothes are more or less intact.

Some of the crew holding Jim down notice their captain and pale, but none of them react visibly enough to alert Jim or Scroop from where he crouches in front of the omega. His claw is forcing the boy’s chin up, their faces inches apart as Jim snarls and snaps and Scroop taunts him.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” He coos. 

Silver takes great pleasure in grabbing Scroop by the scruff of his vest and tearing him away from the omega. He’s never much got along with the slimy bastard, but that mild dislike has turned to cold rage at the threat to the boy. 

He growls, posturing at the rival alpha and letting them all know exactly how unimpressed he is with this little stunt they’ve pulled. He doesn’t think, just reacts.

“The boy is mine.” He snarls as Scroop looks past him, trying to get eyes on Jim. He flinches and scrambles back, and then he’s skittering for the stairs and out of the room as fast as possible. 

Jim’s face is slack with fear when Silver grabs him by the scruff. He wants to scoop the boy up in his arms and carry him carefully, but urgency overrules the need to comfort and he half carries half drags Jim down the hall. 

He pulls Jim into the first room with a working door, closing it harshly after him and settling the shaking omega against the wall. 

The fear in his scent is potent, powerful enough that Silver reels before he shakes himself and leans down to search for injuries. The puncture under the boy’s chin is worse than before, leaking fluid and with the smell of venom that Silver knows can paralyze a fully grown alpha in half an hour, nevermind Jim’s scrawny frame. It’s likely only thanks to heat forcing his system into overdrive that he’s even still conscious.

Jim is fighting him, he realizes as the boy tries to land a pitiful blow. His weakened state has left him too slow to even fully struggle, and Silver pins his hand as he starts speaking in that soft comforting tone that Jim had responded so well to before.

“Shh, lad, it’s okay.” He rumbles, swiping his thumb against Jim’s shoulder to try and calm his racing pulse. His eyes are staring wide and panicked and Silver is struck with a wave of guilt as Jim stares at him with clear horror.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Jimbo.” 

Jim’s eyes go from scared to angry in a heartbeat. 

“No! No, you’ll just wait until I’m begging for it. That’s what this is, right? You just don’t want to share. You’re just like the rest of them.” 

And Silver knows Jim is trying to stay angry, to hold on to the righteous rage of being hurt, but his eyes are brimming with betrayed tears and he’s shaking. His body is reacting to the closeness of the alpha whether he likes it or not, and it’s easy to see how terrified he is. He still flinches, even though he knows Jim didn’t mean it. The way his expression turns fearful and he looks away after speaks volumes, the boy is scared of his reaction. He expects anger in kind, or maybe even violence. 

Jim is so small then, so young and so scared and without anyone who’s willing to help. He won’t go to the captain, though the precise reasoning is still unclear. Silver can guess how helpful the doctor would be, and he imagines the first mate would simply bring the same result as the captain. 

For all his alpha like bravado, Jim is very much alone, and miserable for it. 

Silver reaches for him without thought, and feels another modicum of guilt when the omega flinches from his touch. He still catches Jim’s chin and guides him back to make their eyes meet. 

He’s crying, Silver finds. Jim, who has been so brave and was fighting off half a dozen wild alphas and betas not a few minutes ago is finally succumbing to exhaustion. He wipes his thumb over Jim’s cheek, catching the tears before they fall. 

And those eyes come up to meet his again, and Jim looks a little less afraid, a little more like himself as he steels his gaze.

“You really think that?” He murmurs, though he knows Jim doesn’t. 

Jim shakes his head, breathing out in a shudder and gasping. His head is heavy where Silver is supporting his chin, and it show just how exhausted the boy is that he’s allowing even this.

“I’m scared.” He whispers.

That admission floors the alpha, a little. He had expected silent acquiescence at most, but Jim stating even such an obvious thing is well beyond what he’d prepared for. Jim is leaning into his touch, and it’s unclear whether that is strictly due to the venom weakening his muscles. 

“Easy, steady on.” The omega goes easily when Silver drags him into an embrace. His grip on the alpha’s shirt is tenuous at best, but he slumps into the older man gratefully and he’s not difficult to hold upright, lean as he is. Silver lets his hand stroke Jim’s head, comforting him as best he can. 

A shaky gasp and Jim actually sobs. The scent of his heat has all but dissipated, replaced by the sharp tang of fear and hurt and everything that screams wrong on an omega scent. 

“Relax lad, s’alright.” Silver murmurs, speaking into Jim’s hairline and running his free hand over the shuddering plane of his back. 

“I won’t hurt you, but you’ve a nasty gash there an’ it needs a cleanin’ ‘fore it gets worse.” He adds, and Jim makes a noise that could be pain just as easily as distress. He burrows farther into the alpha’s arms, and it hurts Silver to push him back but he needs to tend the wound otherwise it will fester, and given it’s location on Jim’s throat even the smallest amount of rot could prove deadly.

“Please, no.” Jim pleads, he honest to gods _ begs. _ His eyes are watery and he’s so scared. Everything in Silver wants to let Jim go, to bundle him up and take the omega to his cabin where he’ll be safe, but he can’t let this go untreated. 

The next begging cry dies on the boy’s lips. He studies Silver’s face intently, wary and skittish and looking like he’s more than ready to make a run for it, if only his legs would cooperate. 

Silver lets out the breath he’d been holding when Jim tips his head back, exposing the line of his throat and the wound both to the alpha’s attention. That animal that still wants to pin the pure omega and mate him states the obvious; the boy is offering his throat. Take him, keep him, _ claim him, _ it howls. 

Silver has years of practice ignoring it. He moves quickly, cleaning the wound and not letting his touch linger more than absolutely necessary. 

Jim doesn’t complain, despite the fear rolling off his scent. He stays still and calm, eyes squeezed shut but otherwise there is no outward indicator of his fear. 

Holding the bandage to the cut leaves Silver with Jim’s throat in the space between his thumb and his fingers, and he feels the boy swallow hard at the contact. The fear returns in the form of a small keen, and Silver can smell the renewed heat as he squirms in place. He’s flushing again, body coming down from the terror and returning to the matter at hand all too easily.

Silver rumbles a low comforting sound and Jim’s tense form slackens. He lists forward when Silver pulls his hand away, ending up very close to being curled in the alpha’s lap. A soft croon fills the room, something Silver doubts Jim is even aware of doing. The heat scent is rising again, exhausted but distinct and unwavering as the omega calms. 

It’s with definite caution that Silver touches his fingers to Jim’s bonding site. He’s not eager to scare the boy more than he’s already been, and this is so sensitive even without approaching heat. 

Jim sighs and stays relaxed against him, even raising his shoulders into the touch slightly. His scent is inviting, warm and soft and sweet, and so unlike the beta cover he was wearing before. It’s too good to resist, and Silver takes a breath from the crown of the boy’s head just to taste the scent that is pure omega.

Jim murmurs at him but doesn’t object, and soon even the quiet noises of his contentment fall away to gentle breathing. 

Stealing the boy into his arms is easy. He’s light and small and fits so perfectly that Silver has to remind himself that Jim isn’t his, he’s just keeping the boy away from danger. If he had a choice he doubts the omega would want anything to do with him. 

That doesn’t stop the swell of affection as a hand clutches him back, strong and firm where everything else about Jim is soft and languid right now. 

He’s too limp to be under his own power still, and it’s clear the venom is sapping Jim’s strength second by second. It’s not going to do any real damage, at most he’d be weakened for a few hours, but with the heat he would have been incapacitated regardless. Silver will let him sleep it off and then decide what to do with Jim when he awakes. 

* * *

Silver had been fully prepared to let Jim alone for the next few days. Feed him, keep him healthy and strong as he rides out the heat. Maybe just having the scent nearby would have been enough to shorten his heat. 

Of course the boy hadn’t made things easy. He’d wanted Silver, somehow he’d been willing to trust an alpha with his heat, told him as much with barely a blush. The boy is young, certainly, and it’s clearly his first heat with an alpha, but he wasn’t shy about shoving into the alpha’s space and convincing him with kisses and the sweet warmth of his scent.

The alpha is loathe to leave Jim for even a few minutes, much less a few hours, but he can’t abandon his duties for the boy, no matter how much he might want to. The Captain is already suspicious, asking after Jim at every opportunity. He covers for the lad, lying through his teeth like he’s so good at doing. The crew have enough sense to keep their mouths shut. That much, at least, is a blessing. He keeps the door locked and the key on his person at all times, wary of someone snatching it and having their way with the boy behind his back. Morph stays similarly vigilant, aware enough that Jim is vulnerable and needs protecting as best they can right now. He stays in the galley, happy to snack and keep watch.

When the day is finally over he slips away, feeling the eyes of the crew following him as he descends the stairs to his bunk. As he nears his cabin the faint scent of omega permeates the air, and Silver is once again grateful that he’s far away from the rest of the ship. The last thing he needs is someone sniffing around outside after the boy while he’s away.

He unlocks the door and steps inside, careful not to make too much noise. The sounds of gentle breathing reaches him as he relatches the door.

The little omega sleeping in his bed stirs something in Silver that he hasn’t felt for a long time. It’s been years since he had an omega through heat. Even then he wasn’t particularly protective of the ones who filtered through his bed. It was purely transactional. They needed an alpha, he happened to be available at the time. But the sight of Jim, this gorgeous little slip of a thing with more anger than common sense curled up and napping on his bed is enough to soften his heart. Jim doesn’t trust easy, that much has always been achingly clear, but somehow he trusts Silver. 

Silver crosses the room and strokes a hand through the boy’s sleep ruffled hair. Jim stirs but doesn’t wake. The blanket wrapped around him falls with his tossing, revealing the bare skin of his chest beneath. 

Jim makes a soft noise of complaint as he’s lifted, but he settles back to sleep as Silver scoots him over and lays next to the boy. He doesn’t even open his eyes as he huddles against the alpha’s chest, cooing and purring in his sleep so happily that Silver can’t help purring back. 

The defiance that Jim held onto during the early part of his heat is markedly absent, now. The influx of hormones has shoved his normal mannerisms by the wayside, making space instead for a sleepy, compliant creature that Silver barely recognizes. The sheer force of the young omega’s personality still shines through in some aspects, Silver has never seen anyone quite so vocal or demanding during heat, but it’s muted now. Jim is fully overtaken by heat and the determined strength to be in charge during his first knotting has slipped away as easily as a passing glance. 

The silence of sleep overtakes them for a long time. Jim is in the dead middle of heat, at this stage his body needs sleep more than anything else, even fucking falls by the wayside. 

The sound of Jim mumbling draws Silver’s attention. He looks down at him, surprised at first. He shouldn’t be ready to wake up yet. The only way a heat gets that off kilter is after years on end of suppressant abuse. 

Which, now that he thinks about it, is not especially unlikely. Before the heat started Silver had been sure Jim was a beta, and that kind of scent coverage doesn’t come from the doctor recommended frequency most omegas muddle through with. 

A whine, and then Jim is curling tighter up to Silver and snuffling against him greedily. 

He tries to pull Jim back, to adjust their positions into something more comfortable, but the whimper that Jim lets out stops that in it’s tracks.

“No, don’t… alpha stay.” He pleads. The sound is soft, low in volume and fearful like he’s scared of being punished just for asking. Everything out of the boy’s mouth so far this journey has been barbed in some form, witty retorts and defensive snarking meant to force everyone to keep their distance. 

His scent spikes with fear and abandonment, and Silver gathers the boy up and tucks him to his chest. He eyes Jim critically, trying to determine where in his heat he is. If he tries to continue with mating him before he’s ready then it could cause serious harm. Jim scrunches his nose up as his head is tipped back. It’s an endearing expression on him, and only gets more so when he’s released and nuzzles his face back down into the man before him. 

The sweetness in his scent is obvious, now. Not all omegas smell sweet, but Jim does. It’s sharp, no doubt, something more akin to citrus than sugar, but beyond the veil of beta hormones Jim is just as enticing as any omega. His scent isn’t powerful or cloying the way Silver is used to, and he takes a deep lungful when Jim squirms into him again, whining.

A hand between Jim’s legs comes away slicked, but Silver decides to wait it out a little longer. The omega is comfortable for now, his back rising and falling in regular intervals where he lays alongside the older man. He’s still sleeping, eyes closed and mouth hanging slightly open. He’s the picture of a serene omega, but Silver knows it isn’t going to last long. Not with the way the scent of arousal is steadily rising in the air.

Eventually Jim whimpers and pushes his hips against Silver, his omega cock rapidly hardening. He’s waking up, and it won’t be long before the heat has him wild and out of his mind. His naked thighs twitch together when Silver slips a questing hand between them again, this time finding much more slick. A slight flush has turned the boy’s chest pink, and he opens his eyes for the first time with a few groggy blinks. 

“Alpha?” He mumbles, tilting his head up at Silver. His eyes, those eyes that are always so clever and observant are glassy with heat and blown, the blue reduced to little more than an outline around the dark pits of his pupils. 

“M’here.” Silver tells him, brushing his hair back to look into his face. He’s sweating already, drops of it beading at his temples and Jim twists his face into the bed with a wounded noise.

It’s not quite a moan, not quite a whimper, but somewhere in between. The sound is barely audible and Jim is suddenly more vulnerable than he’s ever been. Silver lets his hand slide around to rest on the back of Jim’s head, stroking his hair and chuffing something soft and comforting. Instead of going still the little omega whines again, pushing back into the touch and opening his mouth in a mewling plea for more. The powerfully strong alpha instinct to protect surges at the noise, and Silver is acutely aware that Jim’s back is exposed to the open air instead of covered by his body or pinned to the bed.

“Alpha, please.” He begs, voice slurred with sleep and missing any of his usual sarcasm. It’s a raw sound, Jim’s voice cracking on just the two words and his body squirming needily. He’s scared, that much is clear. Jim isn’t in his right mind and he knows it, but he can’t escape the burning need in his blood without an alpha, and for better or worse Silver is the best available option. 

“Alpha…” Jim whines, eyelids fluttering as he takes a deep breath from Silver’s wrist. “Need you. Touch me, please, I need you…” 

Jim doesn’t ask for things, normally, and he certainly doesn’t beg. Seeing him like this now, unashamed and open in his need, Silver wonders if this desire for touch is something he always carries or just a byproduct of the heat. His scent has always been lonely, now that Silver reflects on it. He doesn’t let anyone touch him, and had seemed genuinely surprised whenever the older alpha made even the smallest contact. He guessed Jim was just uninterested, but his eagerness now speaks to fear rather than indifference. He’s leaning bodily into every place they’re touching and pawing at Silver to try and drag him closer. 

Pushing Jim onto his back, Silver half expects a snarl from the vocal omega, but Jim just whimpers and parts his legs eagerly. His cock is flushed and laying against his stomach, the hole beneath shining with slick. He looks like a beautiful mess, hair wild and eyes still heavy lidded with sleep and desire both. His skin is pinked all over and Jim writhes underneath the alpha pinning him with a pleading sound. 

“Alpha…” He moans. 

It’s submissive and sweet, and such a stark contrast to the boy from just a day ago who’d snapped and growled and ridden him viciously, hungrily. His chin is dipped down to cover his throat, but otherwise the full expanse of skin is exposed to Silver.

He takes his time opening Jim up. Even after being knotted a few times he’s almost impossibly tight, and the alpha has to tell the boy to breathe as he pushes his fingers in. For all his prickly exterior Jim is soft and warm inside, and the reminder of how it feels to touch an omega is almost enough to drive the alpha feral. 

He’s always wanted the boy, in the vague sense that one covets all the handsome young things crossing their path. He’d never intended to act on it, content that Jim was out of his reach and would never come willingly, and he’s a lot of things but Silver is not that particular breed of monster. He would have Jim by his own volition or not at all, and the latter seemed vastly more likely. 

Silver knows Jim would have been happy to never reveal himself, had things not escalated beyond his control, but he also knows Jim was telling the whole honest truth when he said he wanted this. That kind of lying doesn’t come easy. There was unease on his scent, yes, but it was the sort of nervous excitement tinged by genuine want, not the kind poorly hidden behind fear of retaliation. And the comfort he displays, as he’s clawing greedily for more, that cannot be faked even out of heat. Within it acting is completely out of the question. 

Jim whines at him, rutting his hips into the hand between his thighs. His cheeks have gotten even redder, somehow, and his lips part around a hungry, pleading cry. 

Silver kisses him, calming the omega as he works him open. Despite what Jim’s instincts will be telling him, it’s better for both of them if he takes his time. If there was competition for him like there are for some it might be a different story, but Silver is the only alpha here, and Jim isn’t going anywhere. 

The boy tries to kiss back, his tongue working clumsily but so enthusiastically it’s hard to find it anything but endearing. He’s panting and gasping between their mouths but he goes almost completely limp as Silver cups the back of his head and guides him. 

His hand is only barely brushing the bonding site, and without his teeth it likely won’t even register as such. Jim relaxes and lets Silver lead, coaxing him into a softer give and take that better accommodates Jim’s overtaxed body. 

“That’s it, attaboy Jim.” 

Talking an omega through heat is something he discovered long ago. It worked like a charm every time he used it before, but never has an omega melted so thoroughly as Jim does right now. 

His entire form relaxes, a few seconds of gentle purring and Jim is totally pliant against him. Silver kisses down his chest, avoiding his neck entirely and instead starting at the collarbones that peek out of his shirt sometimes and always draw the alpha’s eyes. 

Jim doesn’t even protest the lack of attention, he just tips his head back onto the bed and sighs. It sounds so much like him, such a perfect recreation of the noises he makes when he’s stretching after being stuck doing dishes for a while that Silver has to actually check to make sure he’s still delirious with heat. 

The cock pressing into him is insistent, but Silver doesn’t feel bad about ignoring it. He knows that isn’t what Jim wants or needs, not right now. He’s moving his hips like he does, but it’s just his instincts warring within him. 

“That’s it, lad, jus’ relax.” He says in a low voice, eyes trained on the omega’s face to gauge the reaction. 

It’s instant. Jim sighs again and whimpers, bucking back onto Silver’s fingers. And, miraculously, he _ relaxes _. Jim, who cannot take an order without posturing and hissing like the world’s pettiest alpha, is following his instructions like Silver is in complete control of him. 

“Good. Good boy, Jim.” He murmurs. 

He isn’t sure if he’s imagining more slick than before or if it’s really the case, but it doesn’t matter. Jim clearly enjoys being talked to, and Silver is going to use that information to his advantage. 

The boy is loosening up, and it isn’t long before Silver coaxes him onto his belly with a few gentle words and a nudge. It’s amazing, bordering on unbelievable, and Silver swallows thickly when Jim pushes himself up into position. This isn’t the first time Silver has seen Jim like this, but even still it’s jarring. It’s attractive, the alpha in him is too strong to deny that, but still it feels unlike Jim, to enjoy being on his belly before an alpha.

But his heat has more say than the rest of him at the moment, so Silver lets Jim do what he wants and strips to match him. He’s already going to smell like omega, there’s no changing that now, but at least he can keep the worst of it out of his clothes.

Silver murmurs more comfort as he lines himself up and slides in. Jim is ready for him, clear in how easily his body allows the intrusion. The boy still gasps, a tiny hiccoughing noise that trails off into a whine. The gentle movement of Jim rocking against him is bliss, as well as the whimpering cries he lets out. He’s begging, he wants the alpha as clearly as an omega can. His eyes might be glazed with heat but his body knows what it needs.

Moving in the tight wet heat proves a slight challenge. For all he’d taken the alpha easily before, Jim is still small and his walls are almost too snug to be comfortable. His body writhes as Silver tries to control himself, to keep from fucking the omega as hard as his instincts plead with him to. Jim might be able to take it, but the boy is young and hasn’t been touched by anyone else. That sweet fresh scent that is so appealing also marks him as ripe for the taking, a prize to be fought and won. Virgin omegas are hard to find, and a lot of alphas would pay great sums of money to be an omega’s first. The thought puts a bad taste in Silver’s mouth, and he nuzzles the boy’s neck, scenting him and laying a claim, temporary as it may be. He doesn’t want Jim to hurt. He won’t remember this, at least not well, but Silver is determined to keep the boy comfortable. There are more than enough alphas who would have him rough and violent, with no concern beyond their own pleasure. Silver isn’t afraid to admit he wants Jim to feel good too. 

He rocks into him gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles in Jim’s lower abdomen. He’s not quite pinning the boy like this, but the restraint helps the alpha instincts telling him to take without thought of the repercussions. He licks at the bonding site, kisses it. This could prove too much, and Silver watches for any indication that Jim is resisting the attention, but the boy just groans and rubs his face on the bed.

“Alpha…” He draws out the sound into a whine. The tone is so needy and desperate that it spurs Silver to move faster, forcing the small omega to take more than just the careful thrusts he’d started with.

He mouths more firmly over the spot, and a thin, broken moan rushes past Jim’s lips. Shuddering tremors race up and down his spine as his body goes tight. Silver has no intention of bonding Jim, not without his express permission first, but the bonding site is sensitive enough to make a suitably turned on omega come without even being touched. He’s using every trick he knows for Jim, because he’s still terrified of the crew getting a hold of him, and rushing the heat seems like the best option still.

“Not gonna bite you, lad.” Silver explains in as comforting a tone as he can manage. 

Jim shakes his head vehemently, and Silver almost stops when he sees tears in his eyes.

“I wan’ you to.” He slurs, hiccoughing. Silver does stop then, incredulous as Jim tips his head to the side and leaves the line his throat exposed. 

He’s offering himself to be claimed. His scent is calm and wanting and his muscles are relaxed. Everything about his body language screams willing, and the alpha instincts almost take over. 

It takes every ounce of Silver’s self control to keep from sinking his canines into Jim’s neck. The fact that he wants it, that he’s asking for it with his words as much as his actions screams for the alpha to take what’s his by rights. He already has the boy in every other way, what’s one more? His instincts plead, beg, scream, and howl to take the boy, _ keep _ him. Bond the strong, brilliant omega before anyone else can.

Then he sees the way Jim’s gaze is still clouded by heat. The way his vision struggles to focus even though they’ve gone still. Those eyes, those clever, beautiful, bright eyes are only vaguely looking at him. 

This is the heat talking. Nothing more.

He tries not to be disappointed with that.

Silver rests his head in the place between Jim’s shoulders. The scent on his skin is strong and sweet, but away from his nape it’s easier to control himself. He kisses the spot, just to do something, and Jim whines at him in such a broken and sad tone that he almost relents and bonds him right there.

“You don’t want my claim.” Silver sighs.

“Yes, I do, alpha, _ please. _” Jim cries in protest. “Bite me, please, I want to be yours.”

“Ye don’t. If I claim you now you’ll spend the rest of your life hating me for it.” It feels like he’s reminding himself more than anything. 

Jim certainly isn’t listening, even after being told no by an alpha, something that would shut most heated omegas up. His begging goes from sentences to small, single word pleas. Even that reduction is out of character, speaking to just how out of it Jim really is.

Silver moves his hand to cover Jim’s nape, burying his nose in the skin of the omega’s shoulder as he starts moving again. The soft begging is difficult to tune out, but keeping his palm tight over the bonding site prevents his instincts from taking over. Despite his own feelings on the matter, Jim is still a heated omega who trusts him to take care of his heat, and he’s not about to neglect the boy when he needs him most.

Jim’s pleading slowly dissolves into moans as he’s fucked into, and for a moment Silver can almost lose himself in the hot, slick body. He feels so good, and even now his scent is powerful in it’s clarity. The youth, the softness, things Silver hasn’t felt since the last omega who asked for him, years ago when he was still an alpha in his prime. 

He doesn’t deserve the boy, not remotely. Jim doesn’t know him except as a hesitant ally, and if he ever learned the truth of it he’d be horrified. That more than anything keeps Silver from biting down. 

He tells himself that even if Jim were asking to bond out of heat, he’d say no, tell the boy to keep his distance, but deep down he knows that's a lie. The boy is addictive, strong but with a hidden empathy to him that Silver loved the moment he met him. It’s clear he’s aching for touch, for affection, and Silver knows that if Jim asked he’d do anything. The boy has him ready to give up everything he’s worked so hard for, and he doesn’t even know it.

Silver sighs into Jim’s back. His heart hurts for this, but he knows what has to happen now. He’s already in too deep, as soon as this heat is over he has to put distance between them, to keep Jim safe if nothing else. So many have already hurt the boy, Silver refuses to add to that number.

It’s a hollow lie, but he tells himself that it’s truth and hopes by the time Jim is out of heat he can act convincing enough to fool them both.

Jim cries out as Silver shoves into him harder. He’s opened up enough that he isn’t scared of hurting the boy now, and can finally fuck him in earnest. A soft gasp escapes every time he slams in, and he’s trying to keep it gentle, to not leave Jim sore and bruised after his heat, but those noises are so tempting it’s hard remember why he should.

The moans get higher pitched, and Silver knows Jim is nearing release. His flesh hand wraps around the slim waist to palm him, rubbing his twitching cock and feeling it splash hot come after just a few tugs. Jim stays hard, the twin boon and curse of heat leaving him insatiable without a knot. Jim whines at him, desperate and voice cracking on the sound. Once again Silver is reminded how young Jim is, and that alpha side of him rears it’s head and purrs to _ take, keep, claim. _

He ignores it with a breathy growl, instead slamming in hard and staying there. Jim yelps and pushes back, panting and flexing and his body convulsing with orgasm. More hot release spills over Silver’s hand, but he’s barely even aware of that beyond the way Jim is suddenly tight around him again.

He undulates, squirming against Silver and while his motions are unpracticed and clumsy he can still feel the way Jim is trying to keep him in. The omega instincts will be howling to keep the alpha close, and practice or no practice his body knows what to do. Silver takes a sharp breath as Jim grinds into him, squeezing his abdominal muscles tight and milking the alpha cock, trying to coax it deeper without even realizing. He lets out a long, pleasured groan as he’s knotted and then goes still. 

The alpha pants into Jim’s shoulder. The smell of desperation that permeates a heat is muted, suddenly, replaced by satisfaction and the sound of high, breathy moans as Jim ruts softly into the hand around his cock. 

He’s finally calming down, and Silver kisses over the knots of his spine slowly as he rubs him off again. The knot helps, as does being pinned on his belly, and after just a few tugs Jim lets out a throaty gasp and comes one final time. 

Slowly Silver raises up and presses a kiss to the back of Jim’s neck, right at the center of his bonding site. Without the haze of pheromones and a begging omega to tempt him, his control never wavers. The scent is strong and sweet and so fucking good, and it kills him but he knows this is the last time he’s going to taste it. He’s not having Jim during his heat again. Not if this is how he reacts. He’ll keep him safe, keep the crew away from the little omega, but he refuses to be the thing that breaks the boy. 

A tiny whimper fills the room as Silver moves Jim, but he just lays them down onto their sides. The omega is so small, curled in his arms like this. Again that urge to claim him rises, but Silver satisfies himself by nuzzling the crook of his shoulder. 

Jim mumbles something, eyes drooping closed and sleep overtaking him. It sounds like a protest, almost, and the alpha responds automatically. 

“Shh, s’alright. Not going anywhere.” He nudges under the boy’s jaw, touching his palm to the soft skin of his cheek. Jim turns as much as the knot will allow to lean into the touch, purring.

He sounds content, honestly happy, and Silver lets the melancholy of what will have to happen after slip away, for now. He can enjoy this, the gentle warmth of an omega in his bed. For now at least, he can pretend Jim is his.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim doesn’t know what he’s done wrong.

His heat is over and he’d actually been excited, having an alpha to care for him and keep him safe from any of the crew’s unwanted advances. He doesn’t need suppressants if he has Silver to take care of him during his heats.

Except that the man barely acknowledges him anymore. He cover’s Jim with his scent, rubs a hand through his hair and over his wrists so that everyone knows to keep their distance or else, but there’s no affection, it’s serving the purpose of keeping him safe and nothing more. 

It’s frustrating, and Jim is more than a little hurt, but he’s scared of pushing the issue. Maybe that makes him a coward, but he’d rather pretend nothing happened at all than deal with outright rejection.

He spends as little time in the kitchens as possible, now, and for the first time does his chores without complaint or comment. He hates how miserable he is over an alpha, thinking of when he was younger and told himself he would never be the omega who cries over a lost bond. Spending his spare time in the bunks feels strange, after forcing himself to live out of the kitchens to cover his own scent for the past few months, but its seems like a moot point now. The crew all know he’s an omega, and being around Silver is too painful.

He’s digging through his rucksack for something. It’s been several long weeks since his last heat, and the slightly nauseous feeling in his belly says it’s coming again, and soon. 

A hiss from behind him raises the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck, and he turns with a warning growl echoing from his chest. 

Scroop is standing behind him, looming tall over the boy with a sick smile on his face. 

“What do you want?” Jim snarls. He acts brave and puffs his chest, but the spider still scares him and his scent reflects it. 

“Not with your alpha? I’d think he’d be keeping you close.” He’s smirking, and Jim can hear the smugness in his tone.

Jim stands, growling low in his throat at the implied threat. 

“And so close to your heat?” Scroop says it with mock concern, but the smirk gives him away. “Now why would he do that?” 

He takes a step towards the omega, and Jim growls and takes one back, pressing himself against the wall. Scroop isn’t phased, and continues advancing until they’re uncomfortably close, the putrid alpha scent is somehow even worse in when Jim has Silver’s to compare it to.

“You reek of abandonment, little omega. Let me take care of you.” He hisses mock sweetly, voice dripping honey laced with cyanide.

Jim slaps away the claw coming as if to caress his cheek, baring his teeth. 

“No fucking way, back off.” 

Scroop chuckles, but there’s an air of irritation in his tone now. 

“Playing hard to get?” He tsks. “So undisciplined. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how a good omega behaves.”

He reaches out and grabs a handful of Jim’s hair, yanking him back and pulling an angry snarl from the boy. Jim snaps his teeth in warning, and sees the slightest trepidation in the spider’s eyes. One good bite in the right place is all it would take, one decent mouthful and a deep enough wound and Scroop could bleed out just like that. The fact that the crew would only approach him when he was tranquilized speaks to just how dangerous an unwilling omega is.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Jim growls. 

“Or what?” Scroop sneers. “You’ll tell your alpha?” He smirks cruelly, knowing he has the upper hand. “He threw you aside after just one heat, didn’t even want you as a hole to fuck. Why would he care what happens to you now?” 

Jim snarls again, but the tears pricking the corners of his eyes give him away. 

“Poor little omega.” The free claw comes to trace Jim’s cheek, and he doesn’t swat it away this time, just flinches away and squeezes his eyes closed. 

“Don’t.” He protests, but it’s weak and his voice is watery. Scroop just croons lowly, knowing he’s won.

“That’s it, omega. You’ll have all the knots you want soon enough.” 

The words echo and ricochet around in his head like shrapnel. Each bounce leaves a mark, open wounds that ache and grate and the blood fills his head pounds in his ears with building rage. The rampaging animal instincts scream that this _ isn’t _ his alpha, that this is wrong and that he should kill his alphas competition, prove he’s a good and loyal mate. 

The free claw is still caressing Jim’s cheek, and he snaps. 

His canines sink into the carapace easily, and some of the chitin shatters around where his teeth crack through to the muscles beneath. Sticky greenish brown fluid floods his mouth, the flavour sharp and sweet with an undercurrent of rot coating his tongue.

Scroop shrieks, pained and startled and the sound makes Jim dig his teeth in harder, feral anger turning his jaws into a bear trap. In that second there is nothing in the galaxy that can make him let go. The urge to leave a mark, to scar and maul the alpha foolish enough to touch him overrides any other thought, and the tiny voice that’s still pining a month later whispers that _ this could make him take you back _. 

He hates himself for thinking it, and hates his heart for how it soars and fills with hope. 

The grip on Jim’s hair slackens, and he finally lets the shattered limb fall out of his mouth with a sickening squelch. Scroop shrieks again, pulling his claw back and taking several large steps away from the omega. Jim darts away before the spider can decide he’s angry enough to take revenge. A seething hiss filled with ire chases Jim out of the room, but Scroop doesn’t follow, and the boy moves down into the ship without incident. 

Without thinking about it or meaning to, Jim ends up standing and staring at the door to Silver’s room. 

He huffs, angry with himself, and turns sharply to leave. Jim takes one large step back down the hall from where he came from, then stops dead. Squeezing his eyes closed, Jim growls at himself. He wants to leave, walk away, but something deep in his core is screaming and begging him to stay. 

He turns on his heel and puts his back to the wall, then slides down to sit, tucking his knees up and folding his arms to rest on them. There’s no reason for him to sit there like he’s waiting for his alpha. Any moment he means to get up and walk away.

He looks up at a small chirp and sees Morph hovering around him, concerned and babbling. Jim doesn’t even have the energy to look to his side, but he hears Silver’s slow steps and can see him in his peripheral vision. The alpha presence is comforting, and the tinge of worry edging into his scent makes Jim feel vindictive. 

“Didn’t know where else to go.” Jim doesn’t look away from Morph, who is circling the fingers on his outstretched hand and cooing something comforting. Jim knows his voice sounds as miserable as he feels, and that he looks like a mess. There’s blood on his mouth and splashed over his cheeks, over the flush that colours him from his oncoming heat. He thinks the only reason Silver isn’t more worried is because the blood is a light brownish green and not the deep red that most mammals have, and Jim’s scent doesn’t carry the panic that would be on a traumatized omega. 

Silver moves past Jim with a sigh and unlocks the door, leaving it open in favour of holding a hand out for the still seated omega. 

Jim ignores him, levering himself up to his feet and walking past the alpha into his room without a word. Morph trails after the boy, still chattering worriedly, and Jim makes an effort not to look at the bed.

A splash of water draws Jim’s attention, and he looks over to see Silver dunking a washcloth in a bowl of clean water and holding it out, nodding at the blood drying on his face. 

Jim takes it and drags the rough towel over his mouth, sloughing the blood off easily with just a few swipes. He scrubs a little more harshly at his lips, where the majority of the blood has collected. He makes to toss the rag back to Silver, then hesitates at the small flask the older man is offering. The cap is open, and Jim can smell the burn of alcohol even from arms length. 

He takes it, walking over and dropping the rag next to the water dish before pulling a small swig and swishing it around in his mouth to rid it of the taste of blood. He spits into the bowl, brownish blood turning the otherwise clear liquid pink. 

Jim looks up and finds Silver staring at him. The air between them feels charged, like an electric current, and Jim finally has to break eye contact. He takes another short swig from the flask, this time swallowing with a grimace.

“My heat’s coming back.” Jim says without preamble. It’s obvious, if his scent hasn’t already given him away the blush growing over his face and chest would. He’s asking for help despite himself, despite the pain and humiliation that simmers under the surface at the last rejection. 

Silver sighs, sounding almost regretful. He motions at Morph, who takes the hint and leaves the room, not before rubbing against Jim’s cheek worriedly.

“I think it’s best, lad, if you tell the Captain and ask fer her help.” Jim gapes at the gentle let down. It hurts, and the fact that Silver won’t look him in the eyes makes the sting even worse. He still doesn’t even know what he did to earn this, and all the feelings of uselessness and of not being enough flood to the surface like pollution in a river thats been stirred up by a recent storm. He wants to be told he’s loved so desperately, but more than that he wants _ Silver _ to say it. 

“I know I’m not a good omega, okay?!” He screams. “I know I fight too much, and I’m angry and territorial and don’t follow orders!” There are tears in his eyes now, but Jim keeps going. “Fuck me for thinking you cared, right?! For thinking I was worth it, that you might like me because I’m different, for being more than just a hole to fuck. It’s all my fault for doing something wrong, when you won’t even tell me what it was in the first place!” 

There’s a long silent moment where Silver stares at Jim, who’s sucking in air and trying not to cry with the desperation of a man who doesn’t want to look like a coward, and then all the rage flows out of him with one long breath, and a small sob fills the room. 

“Just tell me what I did wrong.” Jim says quietly, voice hoarse and broken. The tears in his eyes fall and pour down his cheeks in rivulets.

Silver looks pained, like the distance is killing him, and actually makes an aborted motion as if to wrap Jim in an embrace, then holds himself back. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” His voice is similarly wrecked.

Jim shakes his head.

“You told me to bond ye.” And now his voice sounds harsh and gravelly. 

Bonding is not a small thing, and wanting to bond can make or break a relationship. Suddenly Jim hates himself even more, because once again he just had to fuck it up and want more than he has. He collapses backwards, spine against the wall as he slides down and sits on the floor. His knees come up and he rests his elbows there, burying his hands in his hair and pulling sharply. 

“Fuck.” His voice cracks harshly. 

The lack of hickeys anywhere near his neck, Silver suddenly wanting nothing to do with Jim, and only scenting him enough to keep him safe. 

“Didn’t want to stray too close, after. Figured it better to keep you safe.” Silver says it easily but he won’t look Jim in the eyes, and that tells him everything.

Jim swallows his hurt, forces himself to choke out a laugh.

“Yeah, no, I get it. Why’d you want to bond with some stupid kid, right?” There’s no humor in his voice and his mouth is painfully dry.

Silver looks up at him, and Jim tries to fake a smile but falters at his expression. It’s hungry, angry and sad and fiercely protective all in one. His scent is spiking with a possessiveness that makes Jim weak in the knees. 

“Ye think I didn’t want to?” His voice sounds quiet, almost sad if not for the underlying animal growl, and Jim gets the impression he’s just barely holding himself back. 

Jim swallows as Silver leans forward. 

“Ye know how hard it was to keep from claiming ye the moment ye asked?” His eyes are dark and intense, even the inorganic eye is dilated.

“Ye were beggin’ for it, Jim. Damn near broke me heart not to give ye want ye wanted.” Jim can’t speak, doesn’t dare breathe. He doesn’t believe what’s happening, is scared that any second he’ll wake up and it’ll all have been a dream, a painful, horrible dream filled with everything he wants but knows he can’t have.

Silver crosses the room and holds out a hand to Jim, who takes it without a heartbeat’s hesitation. He’s pulled to his feet with ease, and looks up with so much hope he knows the other man can see it on his face. They’re close, Jim with Silver’s hand now on his shoulder and staring up with his lips parted and eyes wide. The mechanical hand cups the back of Jim’s head and neck, fingers pressing into his bonding site and pulling a soft moan all the way up from the base of his spine. Silver chuffs and presses their foreheads together, rumbling deep in his throat and nuzzling into Jim’s cheek. 

It’s not enough. Jim makes a noise halfway between a whine and a growl and practically pounces on the other man, wrapping his arms around his neck and gripping the back of his shirt tightly, pressing their lips together roughly and sliding his tongue into Silver’s mouth. 

He’s crying again, tears rolling down his cheeks and wetting their lips. He still tastes like alcohol, but the salt from his tears adds a new dimension to the kiss. 

“I thought-” Jim starts, voice cracking on a sob. “I thought you didn’t want- or that I wasn’t a good enough-” 

Silver shushes him gently, brushing away the tears from his face. The leftover adrenaline still in Jim’s veins is making his heart pound too hard and his hands tremble faintly, and he has to clutch at Silver’s shirt to hide his shaking hands.

Silver sees right through him, wraps his hands around Jim’s forearms and pulls him back enough to see how badly he’s shaking. He takes his time thoroughly scenting the inside of Jim’s wrists, nosing over every inch of the sensitive skin and pressing kisses right at the heel of the outstretched hands.

Jim can’t stop himself from tearing up again. He’s drained and exhausted and still emotionally raw and he tries to say something but the lump in his throat stops him. 

He can’t talk. The words are fumbling over each other and trying to escape but nothing gets out in the chaos and his silence stretches. 

Jim surges forwards with a needy whimper, pushing on Silver’s chest with his still shaking hands. The desperation must come through in his scent, because there’s no push back from the older man, and he sits back on the bed without complaint.

Crawling onto Silver’s lap feels charged, and Jim even feels himself getting a little hard but he can’t bring himself to act on it. Instead he buries his face in Silver’s shoulder and wraps his arms around to dig his nails into the flesh and pull them as close as they can get. The need to be held overrides the need to quell his heat, and Jim almost chokes on the desperate vulnerability suddenly clawing at his back. 

“Hold me.” He begs, even though he’s already in the other man’s arms. 

The movement surprises him slightly, being scooped up then laid onto the bed on his back with Silver settling to cover Jim’s body with his own. He’s being pressed down into the mattress and surrounded on every side. He’s warm with the promise of safety and the instincts that have been pining for weeks are finally silent. 

The shaking has progressed to his whole body now, making him feel vulnerable and small as much as being held soothes him. 

Silver nuzzles against Jim’s jaw and presses a kiss to his adams apple, all the while speaking soothing words quietly into his skin. The words themselves are almost nonsense, sweet nothings without rhyme or reason, but Jim recognizes them for the promises they are.

He tilts his mouth down into the next kiss. It’s clumsy by nature, mouths slotted together and noses pressing into each others cheeks. Jim presses up into Silver’s body above him, squeezing his eyes shut and deepening the kiss. Their teeth clack, overlarge canines knocking together and tongues tangling sweetly.

Rolling his hips pulls a groan from Jim’s throat. He can smell his own scent spiking with arousal, feel the slick wetting the space between his legs. He can’t ignore his erection now, the heat of it pressed against his belly. He knows Silver can feel it too, the way his solid weight holds Jim down presses their bodies together. Jim can feel Silver reacting as well, his clothed erection pressing hard into the younger man’s thigh.

Jim’s hands start to wander. He’s never actually seen Silver without his clothes, at least not that he remembers, and he suddenly wants that more than anything. He tugs at the older man’s shirt, fumbles with his belt and tries to undo it while growling and licking and biting at Silver’s mouth. 

His attempt at distraction fails, Silver catches his wrist with a purr and butts their foreheads together. 

“Please Silver,” Jim whimpers. “Please I want to see you.” 

He shudders when Silver leans down and speaks almost into his ear. 

“You first.” He rumbles, a smirk in his voice.

Jim yelps as his pants, belt apparently undone without his noticing, are suddenly yanked down his legs. There’s space between the two of them now, room to move and rock against each other. Jim tries to kick off his pants, failing when they get caught on the boots he’s still wearing. He growls a little, frustrated, and works on toeing them off between kisses and pulling at Silver again. 

Silver takes pity on him and untangles Jim from his pants and boots, then too quickly undoes his own shirt and tosses it away. Jim only gets a moment to stare at tan skin and powerful muscle before he’s being kissed into the bed. The blankets around him warp up as he’s pushed down, surrounding him and making him feel like he’s drowning. 

The itching tingling under his skin is growing into a burning warmth. Jim reaches up and braces his forearm around the back of Silver’s neck. He digs his fingers into his shoulders, clawing his way up and pressing them together. His shirt prevents the skin on skin that he needs but finally being able to shove his nose into Silver’s neck is everything he’s ever wanted. The alpha scent soothes him. It’s addicting, the first time Jim has ever enjoyed the way an alpha smells.

He has to fight for the room to pull off his own shirt. Silver is crowding him against the bed, a pleasant thing in itself, but creating issues when Jim is so desperate for touch. He wrestles out of his shirt. It’s ungainly, and when he finally manages it he’s sweating and there’s a distinct redness to his chest and face. 

He arches himself up against Silver and worms his way into the older man’s mouth. He licks and mouths and uses every trick he knows, which admittedly isn’t much, but it earns him a pleased growl. The skin on skin contact makes Jim sigh into the kiss, and more breathy moans are pulled from him as Silver’s hands explore his skin. 

The soft touches are really nice, fingers tracing his prominent collarbones and playing over his ribs. He bucks up his hips impatiently, unintentionally rutting against Silver and pressing their bodies together in the most intimate way possible. Jim bites at Silver and whines, sinks his fingers into the older man’s hair and pulls them into an almost chaste kiss.

“Fuck me.” He growls, tugging sharply and earning a rumble in response. Silver moves to nip a line of love bites along his jaw, searching out Jim’s pulse point and sucking a mark. At the same time his flesh hand wanders down between them, fingers dancing around the space between Jim’s thighs.

Patience worn thin, Jim takes the initiative and reaches between his own legs to locate the source of the slick and massage his way inside. It’s easy, but Jim abruptly realizes the problem with using his own fingers, namely that _ its not enough _. 

“Shit, c’mon, help me out here.” He pants into the kiss.

His own fingers moving in and out is causing slick to roll over his skin in viscous waves. It feels obscene and dirty, but made emotional somehow by Silver wrapping his fingers around Jim’s wrist and removing his hand with more care than necessary. 

Jim closes his eyes with a growling moan. He remembers how easy it was to stretch him during his last heat, but that had been well into the heart of it. It’s still early now, his heat has barely started. 

Its rougher, this time. Jim winces despite his slick easing the way. Silver’s hands are big, and the flesh one is rough with callouses. Without time for his body to do almost all the work itself Jim isn’t prepared, and the first finger working into him is almost too much. 

“Oh _ shit _.” Jim hisses, squirming. Not quite moving away, just shifting in place. 

“Too much?” Silvers lips are right by Jim’s ear and his voice is low. It sends a shudder down Jim’s spine. 

“No, just- ah, go slow.” He pleads, panting. 

Silver complies. He gathers the dripping slick onto his fingers and proceeds carefully, watching the younger man for anything more than discomfort. 

Jim writhes in place, breathing hard through his teeth. It hurts, a little, the gently massaging pressure just inside his entrance. A whimper escapes Jim’s throat at the slight pain, and Silver slows even further to accommodate him, leaning down and kissing him.

The kiss serves to relax Jim a little. He calms and pours all his focus into kissing back, nipping at Silvers lower lip and trying to breathe nothing but his alphas scent. 

The kissing distracts him, makes the stretch less painful, makes it easier to ignore. It gets easier still when Silver mouths down the line of his throat and scrapes his teeth over the side of his neck. Its very close to Jim’s bonding site. The touch puts him just on the edge of sensory overload, and his muscles melt to jelly. Any resistance that Jim might have has is evaporated away, and his tensed muscles go completely lax. 

Silver picks up on the change instantly, pressing his fingers in experimentally and rumbling something pleased. He mouths a kiss to the spot again and Jim actually moans, arching his neck up into it. 

The push in feels good, now. The stretch is slow enough to be almost imperceptible and with Silver nosing at his bonding site Jim is rolling his hips and making soft mewling grunts of pleasure. 

His head is lolling to the side, allowing even more access to that spot that makes him melt, and Jim breathes the words on an exhale.

“I want you to bond me.”

Silver pulls back, and he’s breathing just as hard as Jim is. There’s a nervous edge to his expression, like he’s conflicted.

“You’re sure, lad?” He pants.

“I’m not even technically in heat yet and I’m still asking.” Jim chokes on a breathless laugh. “I’m pretty fucking sure this is what I want.” 

Silver laughs at that too, twists his left hand and strokes Jim’s cheek with his right.

“Wait just a little longer an’ I’ll make it good, aye?” They’re breathing the same air, panting into each others mouths, and its all Jim can do to nod. 

His knees are being pulled up suddenly, moved perpendicular to his body as Silver shifts them so his cock is on level with Jim’s ass. 

The alphas cock is hard, and sort of intimidating when it’s pressed to Jim’s entrance. He knows he can take it, but his instincts and common sense are warring and he has to psych himself up before grinding back. 

The burning warmth feels good, and reminds Jim of the feeling of his last heat. Just like that his fears dissipate, and he moans and tips his head back and to the side, offering access to his bonding site willingly. It makes him feel vulnerable, like having a knife at his throat, but the thrill and the fear of the moment is undercut by Silver, who instead of laying claim takes Jim by the mouth and kisses him deeply. His cock thrusts in while they’re still kissing, and Jim groans into his alphas mouth, trailing off into a long drawn out sound as the pushing in continues. 

Jim feels like he’s choking when Silver pauses, fully buried inside him. He can’t get a full breath in no matter what he does, and the only thing that keeps him calm is Silver stroking at his hair and the nape of his neck and telling him how good he is.

Slowly, eventually, Jim’s breathing evens out, and he rocks his hips in place experimentally. 

The action pulls a groan from both of them in tandem, and then they’re both moving together and against each other. One of the thrusts in hits against Jim’s core and sparks that pleasure center within him, and he moans weakly, voice already failing. 

“Bond me, please god fucking bite me Silver.” He’s almost whispering the words, voice cracking and pitching high and keening. 

Silver snarls and adjusts so that his mouth is down near Jim’s neck, fucking him harder and tangling a hand in his hair to pull his head out of the way. Jim’s already in tears from the pleasure of it, and having nibbling kisses placed just on the edge of his bonding site pulls a wailing moan from him. 

They’re fucking hard, Jim being jolted with every thrust and eyes rolling back in his skull. He can’t seem to shut up, whining and crying and clawing at Silver’s back with desperation but at the same time loathe for the moment to end. He buries his face in the side of Silver’s neck, drinking the alpha scent and panting like a dog with his tongue out.

“Do it.” He mumbles over and over. He’s right next to Silver’s good ear where it’s pressed flat back against his skull, and he sees it flick forwards as he starts speaking. 

Their fucking slows, and Jim hopes it’s because he’s about to get knotted, then sucks in a breath at a single tentative kiss at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. It’s right on a section of muscle, just beneath and to the left of where most bond bites are placed. 

He feels Silvers hesitation, and nods emphatically. 

“Yes.” 

He cries out as the older man’s cock slams into him again at the same time as powerful alpha fangs pierce his skin. His teeth remain buried in Jim’s shoulder as he thrusts in twice more, both times wringing a scream from the younger man. 

Jim goes completely limp when he feels the knot swelling inside of him. He feels like he’s in zero gravity, held by only the two points of where Silver is inside of him. He’s drifting in euphoria and everything is a haze. It feels like a circuit connecting, like electricity thrumming through his veins and making him alive. 

Silver pulls his teeth from the marks he’s made, and Jim suddenly slams back into his body. His neck is sore, but not agony. It feels more like a particularly bad bruise than a bite, and Silver’s tongue laving over the wound actually feels really _ good. _

Jim moans and jerks his hips, then realizes that he’s no longer hard and his belly is painted in streaks of come. He feels dazed, unsteady, but the knot inside of him is comforting and Silver is touching him gently, like he’s scared of Jim suddenly coming to his senses. 

Jim groans at another lick to his bitten shoulder, eyelids fluttering.

“A’right, Jim?” Silver sounds nervous. Jim can’t help it, he huffs a laugh.

“That feels really good.” His voice is slurred, and Jim laughs again at the thought that he’s literally drunk on the feeling.

Silver breathes something like relief, and nuzzles under Jim’s chin with a purr. 

Jim comes down from the high slowly. His bite is only sluggishly bleeding, the alpha’s saliva already working to clot the blood and leave him with little more than a scar. It’ll be a few days before they know if the bond has taken. He goes easily when Silver moves them onto their sides. The knot still ties them together, and Jim uses the opportunity to curl up close and scent his alpha thoroughly.

“Never asked about the blood.” Silver says apropos of nothing, tapping a finger against Jim’s chin. Uneasiness briefly flares in Jim’s scent as he hesitates. The memory of his own righteous anger and possessiveness making him wary.

“Scroop tried to get me alone for my heat.” He mutters. The way Silver’s scent spikes angrily reassures him.

“And?” He prompts, growl in his voice.

Jim tries to hide his smile, embarrassed with how proud of himself he is.

“He touched me and I almost bit his hand off.” He mumbles. 

Silver barks a laugh and the smile that has been threatening to form on Jim’s face takes over. He grins when Silver cups his chin and kisses him, purring and preening at the attention.

“Yer so damned strong, Jim.” He sounds proud, and Jim can’t help but tear up a little.

He doesn’t know how to respond to that, and instead of doing so Jim burrows into his alphas arms. He feels a kiss to his hairline and purrs, a small noise that fills the room with warmth and the sounds of a happy omega. 

The bond might not take right away, but they have all Jim’s heats to keep trying, and that’s all Jim ever wants to do again.


End file.
